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VOLUME IX— AUGUST, 1859, JUNE, 1860, 









• * * \ \ 





• Page. 


Richard B. Creecy, Esq., 26 



BETTIE AND I, (Poetry,) 42 

EDITORS' TABLE— Salutatory ; Sayings and Doings of "Our Club;" 
"Bennett's Chronology of North Carolina;" Rey. Dr. Hawks; 

Graham and Dobbin; Apologetic; 47 — 53 

COLLEGE RECORD— Hon. Edward Everett ; Senior Speaking ; Com- 
mencement Exercises; 54 — 60 

TRIBUTES OF RESPECT— (Wm. Plummer, G. J. Pillow, Jr.,) 63 






TO MISS ANNIE M., (Poetry,) 102 

COLLEGE RECORD — Commencement Exercises, (Concluded;) Speeches 

on President Buchanan's Arrival; Dining at Gov. Swain's; 

Address of Rev. Dr. Hooper^ Sophomore Exhibition; Speech 

of President Buchanan ; Exercises of the Graduating Class ; 

Annual Report; Degrees Conferred; The Ball, &c, 105 — 120 

EDITORS' TABLE — Our Engraving for this Number; Meeting No. 

3 of "Our Club ;" The Prize System ; 121 — 12S 

TRIBUTES OF RESPECT— (James McQueen, Carma Lane,) 123 




* ' Page* 

WAR OF THE REGULATION, By Hon. David L. Swain 129 

THE BLOODY TRIUMPH, (Poetry,) 102 





COLLEGE RECORD— Changes in the Faculty; Improvements; Distin- 
guished Visitors; State Fair; Omission; Ball Managers; 178 

EDITORS' TABLE— Our Engraving for October ; War of the Regulation ; 
Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence; Battle of Moore's 

Creek; "Our Club," Meeting IV; Dr. Mitchell, &c, 180—191 

TRIBUTE OF RESPECT— (James AYoods,) 192 



AND BYRON, Br George Paddjson, Esq., 203 






TO MABEL, (Poetry,) 236 




EDITORS' TARES— Ambition ; " The Wicked Bprroweth and Eetumeth 
not Again;" Cupid among Collegians; Local ; The Fair; Contrib- 
utors; Our Table; Promotion of a Graduate; Thanks; &c, . 247 — 255 
TRIBUTES OF RESPECT— (N. A. Morrison, J. II. Lindsey, Jr.,) .... 256 


MEMOIR OF CHIEF JUSTICE NASH, By Hon. John II. Bryan, .... 257 

A TALE OF THE FOREST, (Poetry,) 277 


MARIAN, By Lina Lee, 286 

Index. v 





ENVY, 306 


EDITORS' TABLE— Our Success; Vacation: He's Coming; He's Going; 

Archbishop Hughes; Soldierizing ; Presentation; 313 — 320 



James Banks, Esq., 321 

WAR OF THE PECULATION, By Hon. D. L. Swain, 326 

THE PSALMS, (An Extract,) By R. P. Dick, Esq., 346 

FAREWELL TO ALMA MATER, (A Poem,) Br Philip W. Alston, 348 




A PARODY, (Poetry,) .' 308 



EDITORS' TABLE— nappy New Year; Woman; Official Responsibility; 
"Yale Literary Magazine;" The Prizes; Apology; Hymeneal; 

Blackwood's Magazine ; 375 — 381 

COLLEGE RECORD — The Faculty; Reports for Last Session; Com- 
mencement Officers; 382 — 383 

TRIBUTES OF RESPECT— (Samuel R. Franklin,) 384 







A SONG OF LIFE, (Poetry,) 430 

AN ACROSTIC, (Poetry,) ,. 431 


MY COURSE OF LIFE, (Poetry,) 436 


vi Index. 


EDITORS' TABLE— Our Portrait for this Number ; The Candidates for 
the Editorship ; Our Contributions ; Love a "Wife and Care for a 
Wife; An Address to the 'Queen of May;' Financial; 443 — 447 

TRIBUTES OF RESPECT— (W. A. Riddle, Wit. Murphy, Jr.,) 448 


MEMOIR OF HON. JOHN HALL, ByWm, Eaton, Jr., Esq., 449 

WAR OF THE REGULATION, By Hon. D. L. Swain, 456 


THE FOX CHASE, (Poetry,) 477 







EDITORS' TABLE— John G. Sase ; The Poetry of our Streams ; Wine 
for Mathematicians ; A North Carolina Poet ; American Almanac 
for 1860; A Mistake; To the Young Ladies of Edgeworth; 508—512 


THE FORCE OF HABIT, (A Discourse,) By Rev. Dr. Hooper 513 


IN A LADY'S ALBUM, (Poetry,) 539 


SENIOR TOAST, (Poetry,) 543 



MAN, ByLinaLee, 548 





LINES, (Poetry,) 568 

EDITORS' TABLE— Memoir of Dr. Mitchell ; Miscellaneous ; A Model 
.Meeting; Our Successors ; Special Notice ; Young Men's Christian 

Association; Prize Committee ; A Curious Love Letter ; 569 — 575 

TRIBUTES OF RESPECT— (N. H. Watson, W. M. Cozart,) 576 

Index. Yii 



FIFTY YEARS SINCE, (An Alumni Address,) By Ret. Dr. Hooper, 577 



WOMAN, (Poetry,) 619 


HOC DIPLOMA, (Poetry,) 631 


COLLEGE RECORD— Senior Speaking ; 636 

EDITORS' TABLE— The Portrait of Gov. Swain ; Our June Number ; 

Correspondence ; The Pine Tree Shilling ; A Card ; New Work ; . 642 

TRIBUTE OF RESPECT— (Hector J. McNeil,) 647 














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The Edict of Nantes was revoked by Louis XIV about the year 1684. 
The well known consequence was that 500,000 French Protestants left 
their country to look after settlements among other nations, and in other 
parts of the world, where they might enjoy the rights of conscience, 
and the same immunities and prospects for themselves and their families 
as were common to other subjects or citizens of the governments under 
which they should live. One of these emigrant families was that of Lovel. 
They first passed from France into England, and continued there for some 
time, in the exercise of manufacturing skill. At that period, the colonies 
of America, now known as the United States, were fast filling up from 
different parts of the British empire, and Europe. The head of this Lovel 
family did not continue very long in the vicinage of London, before he 
concluded to transplant himself with such capital as he possessed, which, 
it would seem, was not insignificant, to a spot which he selected on Long 
Island, towards it western extremity, and not far from Hempsted Plains, 
and near Oyster Bay. Here he purchased an extensive farm. The land 
was of good quality, and being faithfully cultivated, yielded annually an 
abundance for the necessaries and comforts, and all that was desired 
beyond these for the enjoyments and respectability of people who classed 
with the substantial mediocrity of the country. With what total abstrac- 

* We are indebted to the Historical Society of North Carolina for the privi- 
lege of publishing the following Autobiography. As it was written some time 
before Dr. Caldwell's death, we expect some one of his old scholars to write 
an account of the closing days of his illustrious and useful life. Should our 
effort to rescue from oblivion the name of Dr. Caldwell meet with encourage- 
ment, we hope to give it to the public in a more durable form. — Eds. 

2 Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. [August 

tion and absorbing interest did my good old grandmother, when I was a 
boy of twelve, sit and pass in review through the details of her early years, 
while she was growing up under the fostering guidance of her venerable 
parent. He was, it would seem, of mellowed affections and patriarchial 
habits. I shall give a specimen of one of these conversations : 

Grandmother. My father was considered a man of strong mind. 
His person was large, his expression tempered of gravity, affection and truth, 
on which the eyerested with confidence. He was often cheerful in aspect 
and intercourse, but he was always under the chastening influence of piety. 
He had learned to understand the doctrines of the gospel through the stern 
constructions of Puritanism, as it has been distinctively called in England. 
In France, people of this description went under the name of Huguenots. 

Grandson. Huguenots ! That's a strange name. Why were they 
called Huguenots? What is the meaning of it? I suppose it is some 
nickname, by the sound of it. 

Grandmother. It probably was. But I do not know its origin or 
its meaning. They were persecuted so cruelly that they escaped out of 
France by thousands, to find subsistence and settlements as they might in 
other countries. My father and his connexions got to the sea coast and 
went over into England. They were people of property. Some made pur- 
chases of houses in London, where they died without heirs. We were 
told of this some time afterwards, and might have inherited the property, 
but my father was either unable or too regardless of the matter to attend 
to it, and time ran on until by the statute of limitation the claim was barred. 
Some have said that even now, if the claim could be clearly substantiated 
and conducted through the forms of law, a large number of houses once 
belonging to my uncle might possibly be recovered by our family, and if 
they could, we should all be rich enough. 

At this I remember that my little heart bounded, and I became full of 

G-randson. Well, Grandmother, why cannot that be tried ? Is it not 
worth while ? You say it was a vast property, how may houses were there 
said to be ? 

Grandmother. I have heard of a considerable number. My uncle 
was a bachelor, and is said to have owned a whole side of a square, consist- 
ing of valuable buildings. 

Grandson. Has any attempt ever been made to recover the property ? 
If not, would it not be well to make a trial at least, and, if it should fail, 
we should but be where we are. 

Grandmother. Yes, my child, if there were anybody to do it. But 
it would imply a great deal of trouble, and time, and expense, and it has 
been thought best to give it all up. 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldicell. - 3 

This was a theme on which I delighted to dwell, with the fond idea that 
if all that property could be reclaimed, it would be the consummation of 
our good fortune. 

Grandmother. After my father's emigration to this country with his 
family, he brought up his children to the habits of industry, piety, and 
egonomy. But though he held the reins of domestic government with a 
steady hand, a spirit of harmony and affection was constantly diffused 
through all our feelings. We stood in awe of' our father, and feared to 
transgress, but it was accompanied with such a confidence as to strengthen 
and deepen our love for him, and was attended with a prompt and willing 
acquiescence in his wishes. Our mother, too, seemed to look up to him 
with such reference to his opinions and wishes as showed that she felt him 
to be her guide and protector as well as the partner of her bosom. One 
singularity that marked his feelings and opinions was that he never suffered 
meat to be eaten in his family. , 

Grandson. Not eat meat! That is strange. I never heard of any 
body that never eat meat. What reason could he have for not eating meat ? 

Grandmother. He was wont to tell us that the grant to live upon 
the flesh of animals was certainly in the scriptures. But he considered it 
to have been made in consequence of the fall of man. Hence, he deduced 
that to abstain from it was more in conformity with original innocence and 
perfection, than was the practice of subsisting upon it. He never permitted 
an animal to be slaughtered for his own use or that of his family. He 
always had large and luxuriant pastures, kept numbers of cattle and such 
other animals as could be useful to him upon his own principles, provided 
plentifully for their sustenance and shelter, had an abundance of milk, 
butter, cheese and fruits, wheat, corn, and vegetables. In short, all around 
him, both in the house ajad in the field, was in the best condition. 

Grandson. But, if he sold one of these animals to be killed by another 
person, would not that be much the same thing as killing it himself? 

Grandmother. So he felt, and he never would consent to sell one 
if he knew it was to be slaughtered. Some animals we keep now without 
ever thinking of killing them for food, such as horses, dogs, cats. He 
put all upon the same footing. 

Grandson. But, Grandmother, you eat meat now, and your family 
were all brought up to it. 

Grandmother. Yes, but I never tasted it till I was married, at 21 
years of age. Your Grandfather had no such opinions and habits, and I 
fell in with his customs and those of his family. To the present day, 
however, I care very little for meat. My father and all his family were 
thought as healthy as any people in the country, and seemed to enjoy 
themselves as much. We were apt to be esteemed peculiarly happy among 

4 Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. [August 

our neighbors — always harmonious, plain in our manners, affectionate, 
looking up to our parents with veneration and love, and prompt acquiescence 
in their wishes. We were taught to be scrupulous in the economy of 
time, and to feel unhappy unless we were busy about something useful. 
We had a family library and were educated to an enlargement of the mind, 
by reading and improving conversation. My father was careful in direct- 
ing the habits, dispositions and intelligence of his children. Their inge- 
nuity was continually called out for the accomplishment of such work as 
was assigned to them. If a difficulty occurred, the answer to an application 
for aid was, "Now try your skill. Is there no way you can contrive for 
effecting what you want? The greatest advantage in your doing that, is 
in finding out the best method." This would interest us in our work, and 
if we succeeded, we were applauded and encouraged, and this gave us 
fresh heart for our occupation. 

Grandson. Why, Grandmother, you seem to have been very happy. 

Grandmother. We were usually so. My father was fond of sacred 
music. He brought over an organ with him, and kept it in his family. 
He could play upon it himself and sang well — at least we thought so. 
Most of my brothers and sisters learned from him in succession as they 
grew up. At the hour of morning and evening prayers, the family all 
assembled in the room where it was kept, and united their voices with its 
elevating tones in praising God. It is the very same organ which your 
uncle John Lovel has in his house, and on which you have heard his 
sisters play, who are now living with him. 

Such were the accounts which my kind grandmother would detail to me 
of old Mr. John Lovel, her father, and his peculiar habits, opinions, and 
mode of life in his family. It can scarcely be supposed that I am profess- 
ing to describe these things in the expressions used at the time. In the 
course of my boyhood, they were renewed at different times. They were 
subjects on which I delighted to hear her converse, and they made in- 
delible impressions upon me. The circumstances and events have been 
here given in such terms as have occurred. 

As there is something curious in the events of this family, I shall go on 
to mention some of them as they arise in my memory. One of my grand- 
aunts married a man by the name of Wright. They lived in Philadelphia, 
unhappily, I was told, for he became a sot, and she was a woman whose 
pride, it would seem, was not a little towering. When she saw her hus- 
band thus degrading and brutalizing himself, she felt the mortifying- 
effects in all their force. After his death, she resolved to continue no. 
longer in the city, and planned an expedition for herself, which few women 
would think of carrying into effect. She took passage in a ship for London, 
with such property as she possessed, declaring in the loftiness of her 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. 5 

spirit, that she would throw herself upon the resources of her genius, 
determined to seek eminence in a different sphere. She took lodgings in 
the city of London, and began with tasking her invention to devise some 
scheme of eminence. I know not the different methods she might have 
thought of for accomplishing her purpose, if more than the one by which 
she in some degree succeeded employed her ingenuity. Her name came 
before the public as the inventress of the art of making waxen figures of 
full size, with a strict likeness of the persons for whom she took them. 
This implied more art and skill than would at first appear. The material 
was to be purified in the first place, and, if the object required it, be 
brought to a perfect whiteness. It must then be mixed with some sub- 
stance that would give to it the proper complexion. It must not be liable 
to become soft by any temperature of the atmosphere, nor be liable to 
crack by cold, after being formed into a shell of no great thickness. Her 
mode of taking a likeness was different, as I am informed, from that which 
is now practiced. I believe that waxen figures are now made by first 
forming a mould of some other material, and then casting the wax into 
it. She chose an apron of some fine stuff, such as cambric, and hav- 
ing so prepared the wax that it should be sufficiently soft to yield 
and spread with the warmth of the hand, she gave it a first rude shape by 
holding it in her hands and moulding it rudely with pressure applied at 
discretion, while, as a portrait-painter, she looked at the countenance and 
consulted the visage and features she would imitate. She then placed it 
under the apron and brought it to the perfection she wished by acting 
with one hand applied to the interior of the waxen shell, against the 
other on the outside with the cambric between the hand and the surface. 
This gave it a natural aspect, by exhibiting the pores of the skin, and 
prevented the glazed and cadaverous appearance of which most persons 
complain in such wax work as we commonly see. Her faces had the 
reputation of being not only striking likenesses, but of being natural in 
expression and agreeable in effect. 

This invention was new, I was told, both in bringing waxen likenesses 
to the full size, and in the whole manner of producing them. From 
being totally an unknown personage she rose into notice, her name was 
regarded with distinction, her resources became ample, and even the court 
treated her with favor and respect. Something of the effect which it had 
upon* her I have had occasion to remark from letters written by her at the 
time to one of her sisters, Mrs. Willis, in America, in which she often 
inculcated upon her the favorite maxim by no means to fail "in maintain- 
ing the dignity of her character." It was even curious as being sometimes 
interjected with as little connexion with the subject as Cato's "Delcnda 
est Carthago." 

1) Autollotjrtqjhy of Dr. Caldwell. [August 

Sometime after this the American war commenced with the Declaration 
of Independence. Aunt Wright, it would appear, was an ardent Whig, 
and not inactive in her country's cause against the measures of Great 
Britain. She engaged in political matters, and acted the part of a 
spy, for which it is probable every American will not respect her the less, 
by writing letters to some of our leading characters, giving information of 
the measures of the British Government that the Americans might be on 
their guard and prepared for events. In this she was at length discovered, 
and orders were sent to her to leave the kingdom. She passed across the 
country with a view to embark at Bristol. While there, walking in the 
street, she made a misstep, fell, and her ankle was so much injured as to 
terminate in mortification and consequent death. 

My aunt AV right left two daughters — to one of them, by the name of 
Elizabeth, she bequeathed the greater part of the wax work. This had 
grown to be extensive by continual additions in London, where it had 
been kept for exhibition. It was transported to New York, where it was 
set up by my aunt* Betsey, in spacious rooms, to which all visitors were 
admitted by the payment of a quarter of a dollar each. I was then a boy 
living in Elizabethtown, sometimes at Princeton, and sometimes at New- 
ark, getting my education in the academies of these places. Aunt Betsey 
had married a man by the name of Piatt, who was a trifling character, 
and who persecuted her much. She at last became scrupulous in regard 
to the correctness of keeping waxen figures for exhibition, and her con- 
scientious feelings upon the subject disturbed her so much, that she re- 
solved to part with them. The figures were numerous, the drapery was 
often rich and costly, and the whole workmanship had at length amounted 
to no small expense. She determined, however, to get rid of it, and sold 
it at a reduced price. This happened at the time of my arrival in North 
Carolina. I remember the feelings I had on the occasion. I was then 
young, had traversed alone a wide interval to place myself among strangers 
and in circumstances wholly new. I saw the wax-work which was carried 
through the country, it being at that time a perfect novelty to the public. 
I had often seen it before in New York. It seemed as if when I looked 
on those lifeless figures they fell little short of raising in me the fullness 
of those joyous transports that spring up in our bosoms, when, in a land of 
strangers, we suddenly turn our eye upon former acquaintances, or upon 
friends near to our hearts. My aunt had come to think it a profanation for 
her to set up those figures and likeness of the dead for show. I could not 
suppress a revolting indignation at the thought of the degradation and 
disgrace which they suffered in being carried about the country to be 

* Or Cousin? 

1859.] Autohiogrcvpluj of Dr. Calihre/f. 7 

shown in taverns and to tasteless people, who knew nothing of the events 
and associations with which they were connected in my bosom, who were 
unqualified to feel or estimate the merits of the work, the characters and 
circumstances exhibited, or the skill necessary to the production. Some 
of those figures might be considered as emblems of fallen greatness. They 
had been among the first works of the kind in London. They had directed 
upon them something like the admiration which men feel for . original 
genius. They had even received the visits and fixed the eyes of the most 
refined countries. Now, they must be officiously introduced and studiously 
recommended to the most debased subjects that crowded common bar- 
rooms, or who surpassed but little the animals they bestrode. 

My grandmother's maiden name was Rachel Lovel. She married a 
Mr. Harker, who was a minister of the Presbyterian Church. What was 
the extent of his education I know not, though there is reason to think it 
was respectable. It is likely, however, that he had not been originally 
given up to a literary course from his first boyhood. It is more probable 
that he commenced life with manual labor, aud that it was not till he was 
advanced towards manhood that he undertook to study for the ministry. 
He settled with his family at a place called Black River, in Morris county, 
New Jersey. His residence was on the edge of a hill along which the 
public road lay for nearly a mile. His house was a mile from Flanders, 
a pretty village, so called because it had been remarkable for quarrels and 
violence in the first settlement of the country. 

I was told that my grandfather Harker was remarkable for personal size 
and strength. By this circumstance, combined with vigorous mental fiic- 
ulties and fidelity in his profession as a pastor, we may account for the 
opinion, said to have been prevalent, that the people in that vicinage looked 
to him as their leading character in counsel and in action. He was ex- 
pei-ienced in all ordinary practical business. It was said of him that he 
would go into the harvest-field and cradle more wheat in a day than any 
other man in his part of the country. In his ministerial labors, both in 
and out of the pulpit, he was ever regarded with high estimation and 
confidence by his congregation. Their feeling was, that in the lot which 
had fallen to them of having him for their minister, they were a flock that 
enjoyed the privileges of a vigilant and faithful shepherd, able to counsel! 
them in their secular interests, and to guide them to a better world through 
the embarrassments, trials, and conscientious struggles of the christian* 

My mother's name was Rachel. She married early in life, a physician, 
who was also young, and just commencing practice. His name was Joseph 
Caldwell, whose father had emigrated from the northern part of Ireland. 
Of three children I was the youngest. My brother's name was Samuel. 

8 Autobiography of Dr. CalthceJI. [August 

and the difference of our ages was almost exactly four years, for we were 
born in the same month. The birth of a sister intervened, but she died 
very young. 

I have been informed that my father never admitted that he was cor- 
rectly treated in the provision made for the children of the family. There 
was property, it seems, but none was left to him. His father was profes- 
sionally a farmer, who looked to his children, as they grew up, to assist 
him in the support of his family and the enlargement of his property. My 
father was of a more delicate system than the rest of the children, and 
with this peculiarity united a taste for study and mental occupation. On 
this account he was no favorite with my grandfather, who estimated his 
children chiefly by their efficacy in advancing his wishes. He was slighted 
therefore, and by no means gratified with desired opportunities of im- 
proving his mind at schools or academies. To this he was obliged to 
submit till he arrived at an age when he was able to help himself forward 
by becoming useful to others. He struggled through his difficulties into 
the medical profession, and probably his father thought that as he had con- 
tributed nothing to the making of his estate, he ought not to think himself 
aggrieved if he was left without a share of it. 

He contended vigorously with his difficulties, and was successfully rising 
in his profession. But, as he was alighted one day at a mill either having 
accidentally stopped, on being expressly solicited on the emergency to 
aid, he joined the too small strength that was present in replacing a mill- 
stone. The force which he exerted was too much for him, he ruptured 
a blood-vessel in his lungs, a profuse hemorrage instantly followed, a rapid 
consumption was the consequence, and in a few months he sunk into the 
grave. The death of my father, his burial, and my birth followed one 
another in the order here mentioned in three successive days. It was im- 
possible, therefore, that my eye could ever have looked upon him. The 
woes of that period to my excellent mother must have been felt by her to 
have reached an awful consummation, through alarms often renewed, hopes 
disappointed, and sorrows protracted for months before the dark and try- 
ing events in which they terminated. She was still in early life, and just 
at the season when the prospects of her husband, herself and her com- 
mencing family were brightening, a terrible cloud, dark and dense, sudden- 
ly settled upon them, at length fell with sweeping violence, and after 
reiterated assaults left my poor mother, widowed with two orphan infants, 
prostrate and powerless amidst a scene of desolation. 

My father died on the 19th of April, 1773, was interred on the 20th, 
and I was born on the 21st, at Lamington, in New Jersey, near Black 
River, a branch of the Raritan, a mile from old Grermanton. My father's 
remains were deposited in the burying-ground annexed to the Presbyterian 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. 9 

Church near that place, as appeared by the inscription on his tomb, which 
I visited a short time before leaving that country to become a resident of 
the South. 

What were the circumstances of my mother through my infancy and 
for some years afterwards, it is of little consequence to state, if I knew 
them. I have some early recollections that spring up in an insulated 
manner, but how they succeeded one another, it were vain to give any 
account. I have not the vanity to suppose, while I am writing this account 
of my life, that any part of it is to be thonght worth the time necessary to 
its perusal. It is for every one to do with it as he pleases. Should the 
wish to know occur to any one, he has the opportunity of such reminiscences 
as are sufficiently distinct to be ascertained in what the writer sincerely 
intends to be a register of truth. 

The date of my birth, it will be observed, makes the earliest scenes of 
my life cotemporary with the Revolutionary War, or with events immedi- 
ately connected. I remember the calling away of men from their homes 
to serve in the armies, and the spirit that was manifested in the counte- 
nances, conversations and actions of people around me. The marching of 
troops, a circumstance which I always hurried out to gaze on with sensa- 
tions rising almost to transport ) the fife's shrill and piercing notes, stirring 
into reckless activity emotions of which I had scarcely known myself ca- 
pable ; the drum rattling into madness every impetuous feeling that thrilled 
along the nerves or swelled in the heart ; the plumes and epaulettes of the 
officers; the measured and stately march; the burnished arms, the exten- 
sive columns presenting the movement of a vast and powerful body per- 
vaded by one animating spirit — all made impressions upon me at the time 
which in some of their characters may be considered as peculiar to the 
years in which they were produced, and which therefore could never have 
been attained, but at the period when they were actually acquired in the 

At one time I was under the care of my grandmother at Black River, 
on a farm left to her by her husband, the Rev. Mr. Harker, at his death. 
She was far advanced in years, and I extremely young. Her kindness, as 
is usual in such cases, is in my recollection, but there is reason to think that 
my misconduct was too much for the total suppression of her feelings. 
Both she and my mother were ever faithful in giving me all the instruc- 
tion in their power, and especially in training me to the knowledge of 
God, of the scriptures, to pious sentiment and religious duties. 

One night, alone in bed, I well remember being occupied in my 
thoughts almost to solicitude on our manner of breathing ; and the next 
morning the first question I put to my grandmother after seeing her, was, 
how it was possible for us to breathe in the dark ? I do not know whether 

10 Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. [August 

this was an inquiry involving too much for her philosophy, or for my 
supposed capacity of understanding such explanation as she might have 
been able to give, but no answer was returned, and it was not till many 
years afterwards that I found the solution of my difficulty. 

My grandmother would sometimes, though I believe not often, become 
much vexed with my behavior, and when her anger was roused, the em- 
phatical expression that she uttered with a shake at once of the head and 
hand was, " 77? break you." This threat, understood literally by me and 
not in the figurative sense in which she used it, was to the last degree ter- 
rible. It presented her to my imagination as placing me across her knee, 
and snapping me in two, as she would dry sticks or a pipestem. 

We lived in the neighborhood of a man who took great delight in ter- 
rifying children. I would sometimes wander in quest of amusement, till 
being near his house, he would suddenly present himself, writhing his 
muscles into all the distortions expressive of fierceness, his eyes flashing 
with rage, and his motions indicative of the most desperate purpose. It 
never failed to inspire me with an instinctive promptness for flight. The 
effect was a complete panic, and precipitated me into so intent an economy 
of time, that to have incurred a loss of it by looking over my shoulder 
was felt to be perfectly inadmissible, and in such cases I never discovered 
the distance which had been widening at every step between myself and 
the enemy, until I was fairly within the threshold of my grandmother's 
door. I relate this little circumstance, to show how some minds will pre- 
fer that kind of gratification which arises from making themselves objects 
of terror, though accompanied with the utmost detestation, before the 
pleasure that springs from communicating happiness even to children, and 
being the objects of their love. It was not long before I left that seat of 
my earliest years, and it never failed to return upon my recollection as a 
little paradise, but the corner of it, to which this man was contiguous, 
seemed ever haunted by a demon with whom abhorrence in my imagina- 
tion was inseparably connected. 

At another period of these earlier years, my mother lived in Amwell, 
a part of the State to which I believe she had retired from the confusion 
and exposure of the warfare near Elizabethtown, New York, and other 
parts of the maritime country. While we remained here for two or three 
years, my memory had stamped upon it much of the agitation and discus- 
sion that prevailed respecting the proceedings of Congress, of the States, 
of Great Britain, the armies and battles, the raising of militia for short 
service, and the enlisting of troops during the war, the successes and dis- 
asters of the contending forces. One fact continues vividly in my recol- 
lection, that a man of our neighborhood, in respectable circumstances at 
home, who had served with the militia, suddenly made his appearance 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. 11 

among us after an absence of some months, barefoot and his clothes hang- 
ing around him in rags and tatters. I looked upon him with astonish- 
ment, and probably with the more, because I was totally unable to com- 
prehend at that age, the possibility or necessity of his being in such cir- 

We afterwards lived in Newton, and then in Trenton, but in the latter 
of these places not till very near the close of the war. While we resided 
at the former, a body of men arrived from the American army and the 
scenes of its active movements. Newton was the court house village of 
Sussex county, and high in the interior of the State. Dates I cannot re- 
collect, but it is not improbable that it was at the period when the con- 
flicts were going on in lower Jersey. While I was mingling among these 
men, one of them gave me a fife. I went home in ecstacy, but great as it 
was, it was doubtless not more exquisite than the annoyance was to others, 
as I soon had occasion to learn; though I could by no means compre- 
hend how my notes should not be as enchanting to them as they certainly 
were to myself. 

At a subsequent period, young Symmes lived at Newton, distinguished 
afterwards for the theory which he wished to establish, that the earth was 
a hollow sphere, and that the interior part was accessible near the poles. 
His father had married my mother's sister, so that we were cousins ger- 

When my mother lived at Trenton near the conclusion of the war, the 
portion of my life which passed at that place has ever recurred as un- 
equalled in interest by any other in my recollection. Our situation was 
exceedingly pleasant on elevated ground at the southern limit of the town. 
The distance was but small to the bank of the Delaware. Being then 
about 9 or 10 years of age, it was my custom to stroll as far as the river. 
The prospect up and down its expanse was always enjoyed with exquisite 
delight. Above were the falls, where the river dashed, and roared and 
foamed among thickly scattered rocks, displaying a scene of incessant ac- 
tion, animating at once to the eye and the ear. On the opposite bank was 
a mill almost always in motion. There the current of travellers passed 
by a ferry, on the principal route between New York and Philadelphia. 
Below was spread to the eye a long reach of the river, passing the village 
of Lamberton, otherwise called Trenton landing, where such masted ves- 
sels and other craft as were fitted to the navigation, were seen in motion, 
or presenting a scene of activity at the wharves. 

The banks and fields were covered with verdure of a velvet softness. A 
refreshing coolness was diffused through the limbs by the shade from 
above, and the earth through its grassy carpeting. A smooth margin of 
composted sand between the bank and the water, diversified with its pure 

12 Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. [August 

whiteness the beauty of the scene, while the spirits were quickened into 
gaiety, by the light motions of the numerous birds, by their shrill and va- 
ried notes, and by the fish that often bounded wholly above the water, or 
sported upon the surface. 

It is hoped the reader will excuse this indulgence of a lightness, if not 
puerility of recollections, which have often recurred through the succes- 
sive years of a life, much indebted to them for their cheering brightness, 
when interspersed, as they often have been, through scenes of more grave 
and sombrous aspect, and connected at last with the present approxima- 
tion to its close. 

One of the latest events of this last residence at Trenton, was the win- 
tering of a body of troops, on a beautiful field, separated from us only by 
the public road leading to the ferry already mentioned. The interest of 
this circumstance was much abated to me by their being French, in con- 
sequence of which, though I was often permitted to stroll among their 
tents through the day, I was cut off from every attempt at communication 
with the men, or of learning any thing from their conversation. One of' 
the impressions most deeply engraved upon me, was from the nightly calls 
of the sentinels, which I scarcely ever failed to hear, at whatever period I 
happened to be awake, through some months of their continuance in that 
encampment. Though it was a mere formal hail, with the inquiry briskly 
addressed, " Who goes there V and the answer, " Friend," yet, upon my 
ear it never failed to strike with a stirring and portentous sound. One 
day as I stood near the door looking towards the river, my eye was caught 
with a sudden gleam, and was almost as quickly directed to the spot from 
which it proceeded. -Two men appeared fully in view on an ascending 
ground, beyond a small ravine, engaged with rapiers in furious combat. 
The sun was shining with all the splendor of a clear day, and the glittering 
of their swords seemed to convey, as by an appropriate language uttered to 
the eye, the flashings of their rage. I stood in momentary expectation to 
see one or the other sink before me with a fatal blow. Such were their 
eagerness and their quickly renewed passes at each other, and yet so prolong- 
ed was the combat, that I became petrified with horror that grew upon me 
till I was almost overpowered, and I believe I turned away for relief, for I 
certainly did not see its termination. I soon inquired, however, and was 
informed that neither of the combatants was killed. Two officers, who were 
friends, had taken a walk, and began to amuse themselves by stopping now 
and then, merely to try their dexterity in fencing with their swords. At 
length, it seems their feelings became too ardent for mere sport, and finally 
mounted to mortal fury. The difference of their manner was apparent, v 
Both were skilful ; but one never retired from the footing that he took, 
while the other, with a sudden thrust, instantly bounded off from his acl- 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. 13 

versary who almost as speedily followed with another thrust in return. I 
was told that the one who had practiced the elusive movement, had not 
succeeded in the strife equally with the other, for he had received several 
wounds, and began to be weakened with the loss of blood, but had inflic- 
ted scarcely any injury of consequence. The action was witnessed imme- 
diately at its beginning from the camp, a file of men was dispatched, and 
before any fatal mischief occurred, they were put under arrest. 

I think it some time after this, that my mother removed her residence 
to Bristol, a place lower down the Delaware, and on the Pennsylvania side 
of it. Here I went to an English school, which has always returned upon 
my remembrance with peculiar pleasure. I believe the reason of this was, 
that the master had an excellent talent for exciting good dispositions in 
his boys towards himself, and to their studies. The affection I felt for 
him has never been extinguished to the present day, and I have no doubt 
it would continue unchanged to whatever number of years my life might 
be protracted. I was never kept to closer diligence in business, and yet 
my heart reverts to it as among the most interesting and happy periods of 
my life. Here I first engaged in the study of arithmetic, and though I 
found much perplexity in some parts of it, which would probably have 
created aversion under some teachers, I returned to every effort with fresh 
determination and courage. This feeling seemed to be inspired and main- 
tained whenever my eye was turned upon the man. He was ever intently 
occupied in the various business of a numerous school 5 was prompt and 
dextrous in every thing ; his expression was that of kindness and a wish 
to improve us to the utmost; and, as this was apparent in his features and 
his actions, a corresponding sentiment seemed to be transfused into the 
bosoms of his pupils, carrying us at once into a concurrence with his 
wishes, and an efficacious improvement of our time. 

But a circumstance which most impressively marks this period is, that 
here I began, for what reason I know not, to turn my thoughts with greater 
earnestness than before, on the subject of religion. A part of the time 
while I was in this village, my mother went abroad leaving me to board at 
a neighbor's table. This was so near that one of the rooms in the house 
which she occupied, was left open for my use both day and night. Here 
I slept, and whenever I chose, to this I retired. I got hold of a religious 
book, and finding it give me pleasure in the reading, young as I was, and 
fond as most boys usually are of play, though I was much at my own dis- 
cretion, I would sit or traverse the room alone, reading with an interest 
that grew so as utterly to preclude every disposition to stop. 

While I was living in Bristol, an incident occurred which might have 
had some connection with this subject, though it had certainly happened 
so long before this disposition to religious thought, that in my reflections 

14 Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. [August 

since on that part of my life, the one circumstance has no appearance to me 
of having induced the other. On a Sabbath my mother was absent, having 
left my brother and myself at home. She had always made it a particular 
point in our domestic education, to pay a strict regard to the faithful ob- 
servance of the day- I strolled down to the wharf for amusement, and 
while there, my brother and another boy came down, and a very small 
boat lying at the place, he immediately got into it to go out upon the water. 
I immediately became eager to accompany him, and urged for his permis- 
sion. This he refused, but while he was at the head of the boat I sprang 
down upon the stern. My weight was not much, it is true, but the de- 
scent being some four or five feet, and the boat small, the impetus sunk 
the end on which I alighted some distance down into the water. It in- 
stantly mounted up again, and as I was in a toppling condition, and un- 
versed in humoring the motion, I was tossed overboard and sunk, I know 
not how many feet, to the bottom. The pains of death of course com- 
menced with the first expansion of my lungs, and they produced the utmost 
efforts of such action in all my limbs as nature prompted, for I knew noth- 
ing of swimming. Though I was very young, my reflection was all alive 
to the thought that a few moments were to end my existence here, and 
send me into another world where my destiny was to be forever fixed. The 
anticipation was horrible, and my struggles were convulsive. The distress 
both of mind and body was complete; my thoughts were hurried, but they 
were distinct ; and it may well be supposed that no words can give utter- 
ance equal to their intensity. After a while I found myself approaching 
the light. Having by my struggles risen to the surface, I found myself 
prevented from sinking once more, which, had it occurred, I have no doubt 
would have ended the strife. My brother had placed himself at the spot 
where I went down, and as it happened, I at last rose so near that he 
caught me by the hair and saved my life. 

When I was lifted out of the water and placed upon the wharf, I found 
myself surrounded by a number of persons, who had hurried to the place. 
The water spouted from my mouth and nostrils for some time with renewed 
efforts, until I began to feel relief. My sensations of joy for the deliver- 
ance of which the moment before I had been utterly hopeless, were as ex- 
quisite and indescribable as the horrors I had suffered. What a vast 
transition of feeling, and in how brief a space ! It is a species of know- 
ledge, which in its peculiarity and extent, is probably unattainable but by 
the actual experience. Though I was obliged to be supported or carried 
up to the house, a flood of pleasure even to exultation was pouring through 
my mind, not apparent, as I think, to others ; but not the less real in in- 
tensity and continuance. I was given to the repose into which my ex- 
hausted powers naturally sunk through the afternoon, and when I awoke 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. 15 

it was to see my mother gazing on me with concern. At once shame and 
self-reproach must have been the expression that met her eye, for they 
were felt in all their force. I was dumb before her. She saw that it was 
enough for every purpose she could wish, either of warning or reproof; 
and so tender was she to my feelings, if not wholly engrossed with grati- 
tude for my preservation, that for a long period not a word escaped her 
lips in my hearing, even to impress upon me lessons on the subject, which 
she probably saw there was no occasion to illustrate or enforce. For this 
I loved her the more ; for though I was quite young, I ascribed her for- 
bearance to what I have ever since believed to be the real cause : that she 
could not bear to lacerate me, when the wound upon my conscience was 
probably almost too deep for my fortitude to bear. I had been guilty of 
disobedience, but this was not the most aggravating circumstance. It was 
on the Sabbath, and I was violating it by going in quest of amusement 
wholly at variance with the reverence with which she had ever taught me 
to regard it. If she had inculcated upon me that what had happened 
was a judgment from God upon my transgression, it would have been un- 
necessary, for with this impression it already rested upon me in all its force. 

These feelings gradually faded from my thoughts, and I lived as heed- 
lessly as ever. It was long afterwards that the pious affections of whieh 
I have already spoken, became quickened in my bosom, nor am I conscious 
that the event just related had any connection with them. I was left in 
solitude at the time, and taking up a religious book, I began to read — my 
feelings were excited by it, and they grew into ardbr and intensity. I 
deserted all amusement, my reading, my reflections, and a gratifying sense 
that I might be engaged in the service of God, and have his approbation, 
abstracted me from any of the diversions that occurred to my thoughts. 
As to the cause, it was perfectly inexplicable, and always has been. My 
experience at that time was probably one of the first fruits of the pious 
sentiments which my mother had instilled into me from the first dawnings 
of reason. She was not there, but the spirit of God was doubtless foster- 
ing these principles in my heart, and educing them into action. I have 
since reverted to the few days which passed in 'these circumstances, and 
with these emotions alive in my bosom, as among the most grateful seasons 
of my life, and ever to be remembered with renovated satisfaction. y 

It could not have been long after this, that we removed to Princeton. 
Here all the circumstances and events of my life begin to appear less se- 
vered from one another by parts wholly forgotten, or obscurely remem- 

Here was a grammar school, and from the interest which I had been 
thought to show in reading books, my mother was counselled by others 
finally to adopt the measure which herself had meditated, of giving me a 

16 Autobiography of Dr. Caldicell. [August 

liberal education. The difficulty most felt by her, was the want of such 
an income as would sustain her in the undertaking. I think it was in the 
year 1784, when I was eleven or twelve years of age, a Latin grammar 
was wanted, and upon inquiry none was to be had. We waited some days 
for a supply, but none came ; and as the determination was made, I grew 
impatient. One of the boys by the name of F — n from Charleston, being 
told of the circumstance, and having one on hand that was nearly worn 
out, gave it to me. I refused it till I was told that he had two. I always 
felt grateful to him, and through the whole time of our acquaintance in the 
school, for three or four years, he manifested a peculiar friendship for me. 
The grammar was instantly and eagerly commenced, and as eagerly prose- 
cuted till finished. Corderius, Selecta e Veteri, Selecta e Profanis, Caesar, 
G-reek Grammar, Greek Testament, Mair's Introduction, Virgil, and per- 
haps some other books, followed in as quick succession as intent applica- 
tion could compass them. Before my entering college, our family remov- 
ed to Newark, where my studies were continued under Dr. McWhorter. 
The school at Princeton was made an object of special regulation, and 
sometimes of personal attention by Dr. Witherspoon. From this circum- 
stance it certainly had singular advantages in comparison with other acade- 
mies. The modes of instruction, and the exercises in which we were 
trained, were derived immediately from Scotland. Of their superior effi- 
cacy I was made sensible by the change. Dr. McWhorter was undoubt- 
edly among the best teachers in the country, but in the class with which I 
was united, every thing came so easily in my preparations that it was al- 
most like sport, while the rest of the class appeared to meet as much diffi- 
culty as they could well vanquish. This difference proceeded from the 
different methods of teaching, and I was perfectly convinced of it at the 

* For instance, in Mair's Introduction, it was the custom at Newark to write 
down no more than two or three of the longer sentences in good Latin, as a 
weekly task on Saturday. But in Princeton we were required to come prepar- 
ed every forenoon, while we were in that book, to read the whole of one of those 
sentences in English, and then to repeat it with equal promptness in correct 
Latin ; and our daily appointment was two or three pages. Nor was this all. 
For we then closed our books, and the instructor would read to us long portions 
of the English, and we must give the Latin of them without mistake in word 
or grammatical construction, from beginning to end. We were not permitted 
to do this tardily, for not only if any one made a mistake, but if he did not 
move directly forward in enunciating the translation of the sentence put to 
him, the next below was to pronounce it forthwith, and if successful, was to 
take his place. To a student trained to this vigor and promptness of thought 
and action, what difficulty could there be in writing down two or three sentences 
in corrected Latin as a weekly exercise, as was the custom at Newark ? We 
wrote Latin versions, weekly at Princeton also, but we had nothing but English 
sentences given, and we selected the Latin words and phraseology for ourselves. 

1859.] Ahtobioynqjht/ of Dr. Caldwell 17 

While living in Newark, my religious impressions were often renewed. 
I do not know that I resisted them, or strove to repress or shake them off, 
but it is very certain that at various times when they had been felt with 
much force, alarm of conscience, and a dissolving tenderness of affection, 
they soon passed away, and I became as careless and thoughtless as ever. 
Dr. McWhorter's preaching was generally animated, plain, and practical. 
He sometimes became warm, pointed the guilty sinner to the coming wrath, 
showed the danger of growing hardened to all the considerations of God's 
mercy, his justice, his judgments, the means of grace, the opportunities of 
improvement, the uncertainty of life, and the dread consequences of failing 
to prepare in this time of discipline and probation for the eternity that is 
to follow. I would come home like the wounded hart with the arrow in 
my side, but it dropped off, the wound closed, and it ceased to be remem- 

That our present life is a state of trial, I think must be confirmed by 
every man who reflects upon the events of his own, and the manner in 
which they affect his mind, his affections, his outward condition, his men- 
tal character, and his prospects of the future. Limiting our views even 
to our earthly existence, it is probationary. Our choice of action, at any 
moment when it is made, must be regulated by the past, that we'may 
choose our object, be intelligently directed to it, whatever it may be, and 
that the means may be adapted to its attainment. In regard to every one 
of these we are liable to error, and of course to be corrected by exjierience. 

This taught us the use of words agreeably to their true classical import. Dr. 
Witherspoon had various methods of drilling a class. One was to run a verb, 
;is it was called, through all the successive tenses and moods in the first per- 
son, then in the second person, the third, and so on: and to repeat the impera- 
tive, the infinitive, the gerunds, supines, and participles. This was done in 
both voices. Another exercise consisted in comparing an adjective, and keep- 
ing up the repetition of the degrees, through all the genders and cases in both 
numbers. A third method of giviug us skill was to carry an adjective through 
the cases and numbers in company with a masculine substantive, then with 
a feminine, and then with a neuter. A fourth exercise was to come prepared 
daily with a page or two of vocables, so as to give the English for the Latin, 
and the Latin fur the English. In another instance, he would select a Latin 
verb, and call upon each of us, successively, to give a compound with the mean- 
ing, till all the compounds were exhausted. A sixth exercise was made out 
by taking some verb, as ago, having various idiomatic imports according to its 
connection, and we were required to give examples of its idiomatic uses. This 
note is subjoined evidently not for all readers, but as a suggestion to teachers. 
But these are by no means all the methods of drilling to which we were called. 
When we first commenced any one of them, we were slow ; but the quickness 
to which we presently attained, was evidence of the improvement consequent 
upon such practice. The most efficient cause of the high degree of perfection 
at which scholars arrive in European grammar schools and scientific institu- 
tions, is to be seen in the diversity of exercises devised and continually prac- 
ticed through the whole course of education. 

18 Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. [August 

This experience constitutes the very thing which is called providence by 
those who helieve in God's administration of all human affairs. It sets 
before us all the variety of ends which it is possible for us to choose, and 
we are subjects of trial, when we make our selection. If our end be a 
good one, it is one evidence in behalf of our virtue. We have been put 
to the test on this point, and it has terminated in our favor. If we limit 
ourselves to instrumentality which God approves, it is another proof that 
our affections and views have been formed as we have advanced through 
the past upon correct principles. If conscience has been our authority, it 
is still farther testimony, by evincing both that it is enlightened, and that 
we have listened as became us to its voice. If at any time we have not. 
adhered to these principles, it proves no less that we have been in fault, 
and as we have had our choice, we must properly sustain the consequences. 
One great consequence must ever be, that if we have chosen ill, and re- 
fuse afterwards to be chastened by its external effects, or the reproofs and 
interdicts of the heart, we give proof that we are, so far at least, ripening 
in iniquity, and exposing ourselves to God's disapprobation, to that of all 
good beings, to our own, and to all the calamities which God has connec- 
ted with it, in the constitution of his works, and by his positive determi- 
nation. If it be said that we are the children of circumstances, still it is 
true that these circumstances are at once the arrangement of God, so as 
forever to retain us under a complete responsibility for the result as to 
good or ill which is to be their issue with respect to us. If we cannot 
choose our condition, or control events, we have our choice of the course 
we will pursue, so far as sin or obedience to the truth is concerned. This 
is unquestionable at every step we take, we have the incontestable evidence 
to it, which is of the nature of fact, the evidence pronounced by con- 
sciousness, whenever we appeal to it. The overruling power of the Al- 
mighty, then, detracts nothing from our complete responsibility. We are 
truly and justly probationers, both in our present state, and as to our fram- 
ing ourselves to the good or ill connected with our welfare or our misery 
hereafter. He gives us external opportunity of knowing our duty, and 
having it forcibly urged upon us. He impresses it upon us by his Spirit, 
in a manner calculated to reform and improve us. This he never would 
do, were we, who are of wicked dispositions, not in a state of trial, nor sus- 
ceptible of recovery. Were not this our condition, were we not in a state 
of discipline and responsibility, but wholly given up to the spirit of dis- 
obedience which every man feels to be prevalent within him, our only 
feelings at all times would be opposition to holiness, and complete aban- 
donment to its motives and the outward expressions of it — our universal 
intercourse — and a consequent utter despair of heaven, and an over- 
whelming sense of final consignment to sin and all its woes. 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. 19 

I have indulged in these reflections here, because they are the result of 
the thought and experience of all those years of my life on the events of 
which I am now turning a reviewing eye. I can remember many occa- 
sions in those early years, in the various places in which they were passed, 
when my reflections were directed on God, a future state, and the eternal 
world. The interest I took in them when they were impressed upon me 
by the scriptures, or by any other cause, was the same in its aspect and 
species as it has been through later years. The intervals sometimes are 
apparent as to their cause, and sometimes they seem to have become irre- 
coverably lost to my remembrance. Whether they had a connection with 
one another, and by what ties of circumstances, or thought, or emotion a,s 
they were successively renewed, it would be impossible for me to deter- 
mine, though to the Spirit of God who produced them and witnessed all 
their effects, they are present now as at the moment when they agitated 
my bosom. Sometimes I would return from church with a heart deeply 
affected with the considerations presented there of my obligations to God 
for his goodness in the ordinary blessings of food and raiment, relations 
and friends, health and the pleasures connected with it. Conscience im- 
pressed upon me portentously the consequences of my thoughtless ingrati- 
tude. The prospects of heaven to the good, and of endless misery to the 
wicked, drove from me for a time every wish for the amusements on which 
1 was commonly intent. The love of God in sending his Son into the 
world to redeem me from death, and open the way to heaven, combined 
with all its force in impressing my conscience with the responsibility im- 
posed by this consummation of mercy. My mother was often engaged in 
giving me religious instruction, and deepening its impressions upon my 
heart. Sometimes an accident would happen, to set before me the utter 
uncertainty in which I lived. The death of a neighbor by sickness, or 
by some sudden accident, the grave-yard, the darkness of night when in 
solitude, naturally accompanied with abstraction from sensible scenes, and 
plunging my thought into the spiritual world — every thing of this nature 
excited in me a sense of religion, a reference to God, and to the danger 
I was in of being lost forever, if I should die without being made the sub- 
ject of his saving grace. It was all the striving of his Spirit, to prevent 
me from being wholly engrossed with the earth, and to educate me in this 
school of his providence for better and more glorious purposes than the 
interests and pleasures of a mere earthly existence. An excellent practical 
writer on " Keeping the Heart" remarks that " Providence is like a cu- 
rious piece of tapestry, made of a thousand shreds, which single appear 
useless, but put together, they represent a regular and connected history 
to the eye." 

I am reminded here of an incident which happened at Princeton, but 

20 Aatubiuyrujihtj of Dr. GaldweU. [August 

which it did not occur to mention among events there. Among our boy- 
ish diversions, it was one to range ourselves in two companies, and having 
small wagons, to run stages, as we called it, along the street, to see who 
could pass and leave the others behind. One day we set out in this man- 
ner fresh and buoyant in our spirits, six in each company, and pressing 
the strife of our opposition to the utmost. We presently met a wagon 
with four horses, and in turning out, Are all took the same side of the way. 
Our company, as it happened, were to pass between the other and the team 
before us. Our antagonists, thoughtlessly urged to take advantage of the 
circumstance, suddenly thrust themselves against us as soon as we came 
by the side of the horses. In the instant six of us were all thrown in a 
promiscuous heap directly upon the track of the wheels. It happened 
that the driver was following his wagon at some distance behind, and could 
do nothing in the emergency. The animals it seems chose their steps so 
as not to strike or trample on any of us. The wheels were to come next. 
The movement that overthrew us was so sudden and unexpected that I 
had no knowledge of our situation on the ground, and I was so completely 
under the rest that I could see nothing. In thinking immediately after- 
wards upon the matter, it appeared to me most natural that I should have 
waited till the others might have time to rise and release me ; and this was 
my first thought after I was down. But it continued only for a moment. 
The very next instant I commenced a violent effort of limbs and body at 
hap-hazard, contracting and tossing in every direction, so as to disengage 
myself with a speed that quite surprised me, when I considered the con- 
fining pressure which had seemed to forbid all hopes of extrication. By 
this exertion, those that were above me were thrown off, and no sooner was 
I released than I sprang upon my feet, and found myself outside of the 
road, but in such confusion of senses that I knew nothing of the imminent 
danger I had eluded. I saw, however, the fore-wheel and then the other 
pass over the ankles of one of my companions. The rest had been saved 
from being crushed by the same effort which had proved the means of my 
own escape. The petrifying and awful effect, however, which was produced 
upon me, may be conceived when immediately afterwards I was told by a 
boy who saw the whole, that while I was down my neck lay exactly across 
the route in which the wheel was to run. I was young and thoughtless ; 
but the first reflection that rushed upon me, was, that God in his goodness 
had saved my life by prompting me in the critical moment to act as I did. 
I exchanged not a word more with any one, but walked home with feelings 
sunk as low as a few minutes before they had been elevated. I soon found 
that every one but my mother knew the circumstance, and they seemed to 
gaze at me for a time with particular interest. My resolutions rose to a 
high pitch of strength, that I would no longer live as before, in the neg- 

1850.] Autobiography of Dr. CahhccU. 21 

lect of my religious duties. ]My mother afterwards learned from others 
the peril in which I had been, for I could not bear to tell her myself. She 
remarked, as did others, that a deep and settled gloom hung upon me for 
many days, and my feelings were certainly in accordance with their obser- 

There are doubtless incidents in the life of every one, which cannot but 
appear calculated to produce religious impressions. Even the man who is 
habitually an u nbeliever in a special providence, will probably remember 
some, if not many, which had their instant effect in filling his mind with 
thoughts of God, of eternity, and a want of preparation for passing out of the 
present into a future state. If this be true, it is evidence of the nature 
of fact, that in our constitution we are destined for immortality. The first 
references of our minds in instances of danger, or extreme distress, are the 
language of nature. They may, in after thought, be resolved into baseless 
notions and superstitious fears, but still it must be admitted that our first 
suggestions are those of religion, and bear all the marks of being the genu- 
ine result of an original determination, to us inevitable, and as certainly 
natural. Is it to be esteemed a privilege or an honorable distinction to be 
wholly exempt from them ? Then the brutes, in this respect at least, arc 
to be envied by us, for whatever other attributes may be common to them 
and us, they are most unquestionably devoid of the religious faculty. For 
my own part, if there be a possibility, ascertained by the actual experience 
of any one, of a real and total freedom from the apprehension of future 
responsibility, and the consecpuences of conscious guilt through past life, 
when pressed by sudden peril upon the verge of death, it is a peculiarity 
in which I have never participated, and of which, therefore, I am unable 
to judge. To meet death with unyielding firmness in a righteous cause, 
or in inevitable necessity, is not incompatible with the gravest considera- 
tion of its ultimate issues. To unite these in our feelings is not only hon- 
orable, as something of which the inferior animals are incapable, but con- 
stitutes one at least of the most glorious distinctions of man among ration- 
al and immortal beings. 

My recollection tells me that I have always been susceptible on the sub- 
ject of religion. This has been the case on occasions of public or retired 
worship calculated to excite pious reflection and devout emotion, as well as 
in instances of sudden peril. It is not remarkable, however, that exam- 
ples of the latter description should have taken the most tenacious hold 
upon my memory, both on account of their rare occurrence and their deep 
impressions, and the peculiar vividness of the emotions excited by them. 
That they were directed in signal mercy, I am perfectly convinced, both 
from the nature and permanency of their effects. 

While at school in Newark, it was usual for us to bathe in the Passaic. 

22 Autobivgiujjhj/ of Dr. Caldwell. [August 

On one of these occasions, my companions commenced amusing themselves 
by running along the ridge of a high sand bank, and jumping from the 
extremity down a precipice of five and twenty feet, taking care to present 
their feet in alighting in such a manner as to sink them into the sand that 
lay loose and sloping in large quantities near the bottom, so as to be stop- 
ped gradually by its easy resistance as it was carried before them. I ob- 
served their manner for some time, and was prevented at first from at- 
tempting it by the height, and the danger of not preserving the right di- 
rection of the body and feet through so long a descent. At length, how- 
ever, I resolved to put it to the trial, and the very failure happened which 
I had apprehended. They had commenced with small distances, till learn- 
ing the manner to be consulted, they at length bounded from the top al- 
most to the base. The essay with me was through the whole extent at 
once, and throwing out my feet too far, I alighted upon the extremity of 
my body with a shock that struck me breathless. It was attended also 
with so agonizing a pain in my back that I had no doubt it was broken, 
and that it must terminate in immediate death. I had perfect presence 
of mind, and made some attempts to breathe, but wholly failed. The 
torture was extreme, both of body and mind. At length I felt cheered 
by some commencing success, and in about five minutes I found myself 
able to rise upon my feet. The pain abated afterwards in a manner that 
perfectly surprised me, and once more I seemed to have been snatched, as in 
a moment, from the jaws of death. My companions who had been appalled 
at the accident, were rejoicing over me as we walked home, which I at last 
found myself able to do, though it was at least a mile from the river. Once 
more I was for some time oppressed with a melancholy feeling at the 
thought of the danger I had escaped ; but I am ashamed to say, that it 
was accompanied more with the pleasure of safety, than with gratitude 
for the deliverance, or with steadfast resolutions to live prepared to die. 

While I continued in Newark, my progress in the languages was unin- 
terrupted. I never experienced any thing like reluctance or dissatisfac- 
tion in relinquishing amusement for study. I do not know that I was 
<?vcr whipped for not getting a lesson. My usual feeling was that of grat- 
ification, when the hour for reciting arrived. The consequence was, as 
may be supposed, and as all my recollections suggest, that my teachers and 
myself were mutually satisfied. And though I have seen much of the in- 
disposition of youth to prosecute knowledge when it was put into their 
power, and they had nothing else to do, I have never had such a com- 
prehension of aversion from it, as their experience would probably con- 
vey. Nor is this by any means to be supposed singular. In every school 
or literary institution where numbers are assembled, there are always some, 
if not many, of whom the same thing is true. Yet, we are compelled to 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. 23 

believe that there are others, if, indeed, they do not make the majority, to 
whom it is equally mysterious, how it is possible so to delight in study, as 
to have their richest enjoyments broken up, if they could not be employed 
in it. 

Having been much engaged in the instruction of youth, it has sometimes 
occurred to remark to such as could not be induced to an improvement of 
their opportunities, that there were hundreds of minds to whom, if the 
avenues of knowledge and its enjoyments could be thrown open as liberally 
as to them, it would be estimated as a consummation beyond which there 
was no earthly privilege, which, even in their youthful imagination, they 
would be so visionary as to have a conception of or a wish for. Upon some, 
perhaps, a beneficial impression has been left by the thought ; but upon 
others there was every reason to know that it was followed by no other 
feelings than those of offence and irritation, which they would unhappily 
deduce from a supposed, or at least a chargeable, invidious contrast to their 
disadvantage between themselves and some others who were far beneath 
them in the world. 

We at length removed from Newark to Elizabethtown. At this place 
too much time was lost to me in advancing my education. I believe all 
thought was for some time relinquished of extending it further. My time 
passed away in such boyish amusements as casually offered, or my inven- 
tion contrived. After a year or two had passed in this manner, which I 
cannot but consider as wholly wasted as to all important acquisition in 
knowledge or culture, Dr. Witherspoon, who had known me in the gram- 
mar school at Princeton, passing one day in the stage through Elizabeth- 
town to or from New York, mentioned to my mother the subject of con- 
tinuing my education. He encouraged her to do so, if it could be effec- 
ted, and he dropped some hints that if it could be no otherwise accom- 
plished, himself would become my patron and see that by some means I 
should be sustained through a collegiate course. When he was gone, I 
was told of it, and in a moment, though I had nothing before me at home 
but an unlimited swing in pastime, my heart bounded at the suggestion of 
renewing the prosecution of my studies. My recollection presents to me 
no influence of motives springing from the ultimate consequences of a 
liberal education. The engagements of a school had always been inter- 
esting to me, and it was the gratification that was to be renewed, that 
filled me with eagerness for the object. I therefore teazed my mother 
with inquiries respecting the precise manner in which the Doctor had 
spoken of the matter, and the probability there might be that my studies 
might be resumed. Some weeks, if not months, passed away in this 
uncertainty, and at last I received information that the determination 
was becoming conclusive in my favor. 

21 Autohloijrupliy of Dr. Caldwell. [August 

Before leaving the subject of my residence at Elizabethtown, a circum- 
stance occurs as having furnished another instance of the manner in which 
Providence decides our destination through life by incidents upon which 
the future seems to turn as upon the nicest pivot. In traveling along a 
road, the difference may appear of little import as to which of two roads 
we may happen to take when they are presented to our choice. The re- 
gion we are to traverse, may seem to be much the same, especially to our 
early youth, which knows not how to look at distant consequences. And 
yet, by the decision made at the moment, the whole scenery and circum- 
stances of our future days may become totally different from such as would 
have ensued had the determination been different. While living, then, at 
Elizabethtown, my mother spoke to me one day of a thought which had 
entered her mind of putting me into a printing office, to be brought up to 
that business. After asking the particulars as to the manner of making 
provision for it, and the man with whom I was to be placed, I was capti- 
vated with the plan, and urged it with much persuasion to as speedy an 
issue as possible. It would seem that I felt no real complacency in the 
idle life that I was leading, nor any wish for its continuance. The occu- 
pation of a printer was connected with literary pursuits, and my education 
was sufficiently advanced to enter upon it with advantage, and to furnish 
a foundation for an enlarged and liberal prosecution of the profession. 
Such were my views, even at that early period. Every day I asked my 
mother how the plan advanced, and when I was to begin. She told me 
that she had proposed the matter to one who carried on the business and 
published a newspaper in the town, that he had promised to consider it, 
and was to give an answer. At length she received one in the affirmative : 
but no sooner was it reported to her, than she revolted from the project, 
and informed me that her mind was now in such a state that she never 
could consent to it. At this I was not a little surprised. I argued, and 
even remonstrated : explained to her the comprehensive prospects which 
I hoped to push with success, beyond the mechanical parts of the profes- 
sion, that I had no idea of limiting myself to humble and contracted views 
in the business, and that though it was easy to do this, it was with a view 
to the ulterior and higher opportunities it wonld put in my power, that I 
was induced to wish for it. "When her dissent was communicated to the 
one who had consented to take me, he complained not a little, and I urged 
this also as a reason for concluding the affair by letting me go to him. All, 
however, was of no avail. She had thought more fully, and could not be 
reconciled. Her reasons on which she conclusively rested, did credit to 
her sentiments, whether those reasons were in accordance with fact and 
truth or not. She finally objected to the profession, as having a tendency 
to harden and pervert the heart, by engaging it in the temptations and 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. 25 

wiles of controversy. The facility of publication to one who commands a 
press, she said, was a snare, inducing him to give vent to passions, and to 
commit himself in sentiments, which, if sustained, must injure his moral 
principles, and, if relinquished, must expose him. It seemed to her as if 
a familiar and mechanical dealing in types was attended with the conse- 
quences of recklessness and hardihood in regard to true sentiment, as sail- 
ors who eminently live in the midst of dangers are most regardless of con- 
scientious restriction, and learn to "sin as with a castrope." It was with 
such impressions as these, whether experimentally true, or only baseless ap- 
prehensions, that she explained her purpose as it became finally settled on 
the subject, and the plan was relinquished. It was so long after this that 
Dr. Witherspoon proposed the continuance of my education through a 
complete collegiate course, that the thought of my becoming a printer, 
from which I had been so critically diverted, had dropped out of sight. 
But when I look back at these events, they contain to me a striking ex- 
emplification of our being wholly at the disposal of Providence, while at 
the moment we may think of nothing else than of determining every 
thing by our own choice, or by the opinions and wishes of our friends. 
This conviction is more apt to be made upon us, when on the turning 
point we took a direction that changed the whole aspect of our life, than t 
in cases of minute and scarcely observable consequence. But there is no 
difficulty in seeing that by one of these two, or by a succession of them, 
we may come to be placed in circumstances equally decisive upon an ex- ' 
tensive scale, or in producing such a contexture of our character and con- 
dition at last, as must exhibit those little events or influences to have been 
of the utmost consequence, though while they were passing they scarcely 
attracted our notice, and have long been forgotten, and become to us as 
though they had never been. 


4 >. mm > » 

Teaching the Eye. — The great majority of mankind do not and 
can not see one fraction of what they might see. " None are so blind as 
those that will not see," is as true of physical as moral vision. By neg- 
lect and carelessness we have made ourselves unable to discern hundreds 
of things which are before us to see. A powerful modern writer has sum- 
med this up in one pregnant sentence : " The eye sees what it brings the 
power to see." How true is this ! The sailor on the look-out can see a 
ship where the landsman sees nothing ; the Esquimaux can distinguish a 
white fox amidst the white snow; the American backwoodsman will fire a 
rifle ball so as to strike a nut out of the mouth of a squirrel without hurt- 
ing it ; the Red Indian boys hold their hands up as marks to each other, 
certain that the unerring arrow will be shot between the spread-out fingers ; 
and multitudes of such examples might be given of what education does 
for the eye. 


26 Revolutionary Era of North Carolina. [August 


An Address delivered before the citizens of Elizabeth City, July 4, 1859, 


It is with feelings of unfeigned regret, that I look around upon this 
extraordinary assemblage of persons, met to do honor to the natal day 
of our country's independence ; regret, at the disappointment which they 
must necessarily meet with, from the imperfect manner in which I am 
compelled to perform the part which has been assigned me in the enter- 
tainments of this occasion. The brief time allowed me by those upon 
whose invitation I appear before you, added to the insufferably hot weather 
which we have had for some days past, is my humble apology to my 
respected audience, for inviting them to a plain, substantial, homely meal, 
composed of simple matter-of-fact dishes, without any of the plum-pud- 
dings of rhetoric, the Champagne of wit, or the south-side Madeira of 
eloquence and poetry ; delicacies, to which you have hitherto been accus- 
tomed on this great day of our country's birth, and to which you are 
fairly entitled for the compliment of your attendance here this day. 

The weather alone would plead with my friends, I trust, an ample and 
sufficient apology for my apparent neglect; for who, alas ! can-do any 
thing for his country or his friends, with the thermometer at 90, and his 
patriotism oozing out at every pore. At such a time, who feels like 
bursting into a blaze of patriotic passion ; nay, rather, who does not feel 
then, like melting; into the plaintive melody of song ; thus: 

"Ob, this confounded weather! 

(As some one sung or said,) 
My pen, though but a feather, 

Is heavier than lead ; 
At every pore I'm oozing — 

(I'm "caving in" to-day) — 
My plurnptitude I'm losing, 

I'm dripping fast away. 

Had I a yacht, like Miller, 

That skimmer of the seas, 
A wheel rigged for a tiller, 

And a fresh gunwale breeze, 
A crew of friends well chosen, 

And all atanto, I 
Would sail for regions frozen — 

I'd rather freeze than fry. 

I'm weeping like the willow 

That droops in leaf and bough — 
Let ocean's sparkling billow 

Burst cold upon me now ; 
And, as becomes her station, 

The muse will close her prayer — 
God save the corporation ! 

Long live the valiant mayor I" 

1859.] Revolutionary Era of North Carolina. 27 

It lias often occurred to me, in my solitary musings upon the stirring 
events of the Revolutionary drama, that it had been fortunate for us latter 
day patriots, if Dr. Franklin, who was one of the committee appointed by 
Congress to draft the Declaration of Independence, had drawn that im- 
mortal State paper instead of Thomas Jefferson. Franklin was eminently 
practical — Jefferson eminently speculative. 

Jefferson was a scion of the English cavalier, grafted upon the French 
stock; and he encouraged the speculative habits of thought acquired in 
the French school. He drank French wines, eat French dishes, dressed 
in French costume, and wore the French cockade. He was a rhetorician 
and a poet by nature, and did many things, and wrote many things, 
without reference to their practical effect. See, for example, the poet, in 
the opening phraseology of the Declaration of Independence. " When 
in the course of human events." Why run his poetical eye down the long 
vista of human progress, to make our great epic a part of the lengthened 
catenation ? Why not leave it, a great, disconnected individuality ? So, 
also, with that other passage of the Declaration; "all men are born free 
and equal;" a passage, which some of his friends have given themselves 
much unnecessary trouble to explain, in order to relieve the sage of Mon- 
ticello from the embraces of the modern abolitionist, by which Jefferson 
meant nothing but to round a period with a rhetorical finish ; for in point 
of fact, few men are born equal and none are born free. 

Jefferson died, without having grappled successfully with the business 
details of life, and left to his heirs nothing but glory ; nothing but glory — 
the glory of a name which is the tocsin-cry of liberty throughout the 
world, the sound whereof starts a quicker heart-throb wherever it is heard 
among the down-trodden sons of men ; a heritage more valuable to those 
who boast his lineage, than heaps of gold piled mountain high. 

Franklin, on the contrary, was a genuine Boston Quaker, and preserved 
through life the hereditary instincts and peculiarities of his eminently 
practical race. Commencing life, literally with two rolls of bread under 
his arm and a hard shilling in his pocket, he worked his way up to fame 
and fortune, simply by the force of that native practical talent which 
regarded no object save for its uses. He died, the great type, through all 
time, of the practical man, and bequeathed large legacies to his kindred, 
and large charities to Boston and Philadelphia, the cities of his birth and 
his adoption. 

Now, had Franklin written the Declaration of Independence instead of 
Jefferson, it would unquestionably have borne the impress of a different 
paternity, and we should probably have been saved a deal of trouble. In 
the first place, had Franklin had the management of the matter, the 4th 
of July would surely never have come in the month of July. Boiling 

28 Revolutionary Era of North Carolina. [August 

his practical orbs down the tide of time, he would quickly have seen how 
unsuited the season for a great holiday, and he would, most surely, have 
made the 4th of July come along about the 20th of October; that lovely 
Indian-summer time, when Nature, decked in the russet livery of Autumn, 
wears her loveliest aspect. 

The Declaration itself would doubtless have been very different from 
that which bears the impress of Jefferson's genius. It would have dealt 
in no rhetorical generalities; but upon the money question it would have 
been all right, with all our losses estimated and calculated in £, s. and d., 
according to the rules laid down in Daboll's Arithmetic. Upon the taxa- 
tion question, placing himself in attitudine pugnandi and showing the true 
blood of a fighting Quaker, I think he would have told King George, in 
very plain terms, that if he did not take his foot off of our ne<5ks, and 
his hands out of our breeches pockets, he would get both of his eyes 

Its spelling would perhaps have been faulty, for, if I mistake not, the 
Doctor had some peculiar fancies upon that branch of education, which, I 
think, would not have looked graceful if embodied in the spelling of the 
Declaration of Independence. His practical mind could not understand 
how r-o-u-g-h could spell ruff; c-o-u-g-h coff, and b-o-u-g-h, bow; so he 
went for a change, and proposed to simplify the process, bj spelling all 
the words of our language according to their sound. For example, our 
plain old Anglo-Saxon word, wife, which we have been taught to spell 
with four letters, w-i-f-e, the Doctor thought could be spelt, phonographi- 
cally, with great economy of time and ink, with two letters, thus : y-f, 
wife. For this reason, I had rather Dr. Franklin should have had 
nothing to do with the spelling of the Declaration of Independence. 

I have thought it would not be inappropriate to the occasion and the 
place, and not distasteful to the audience which I have the honor to 
address, to take a summary review of that portion of our Revolutionary 
struggle, in which our own State of North Carolina bore the chief part ; 
in other words, to present for your consideration, the North Carolina 
chapter, in the. history of " the times that tried men's souls." Like "Old 
Mortality," in Scott's immortal romance, I shall aim to re-chisel upon the 
tablets of your memory, the names, the deeds and the character of the 
men, who, in that heroic period, marched under the rebellious banner of 
the colony of North Carolina, and staked their lives, their fortunes and 
their sacred honor, upon the issue of the contest. 

For a long period of time after the war was ended, and our country's 
independence established upon a sure and recognized basis, our State did 
not receive her fair share of credit for the efforts and sacrifices made and 
endured in that glorious struggle ; and it is by the recent labors of her 

1859.] Revolutionary Era of North Carolina. 29 

patriotic sons, that her claims to distinction have been completely \ indi- 
cated. The whole story of her struggles, her heroic daring, her stern 
endurance, her determined resistance, will never he fully told; but enough 
is known and enough has been told, to entitle her to the honor of Lord 
Cornwallis' reproach, that her territory was the " Hornet's Nest of the 
Revolutionary "War." 

It is a matter of profound regret, that the Revolutionary annals of our 
State were not examined and preserved at an earlier period of time, when 
the facts of history were fresh in the memory of the living witnesses, and 
could have been established by the most reliable and authentic traditions. 
The written records of the time were exceedingly scanty ; in the case of 
North Carolina, they were peculiarly so. The official reports were often 
imperfectly drawn, the actors being more familiar with the use of the 
sword than the pen. The Press, that living Daguerreotype of the times 
in our day, was then but little understood, as a vehicle of public intelli- 
gence j and in North Carolina its feeble voice had been silenced amid the 
clangor of arms. H The North Carolina Magazine" had been established 
in Newborn, and " The North Carolina Weekly Post Boy " in Wilming- 
ton ; but they soon died out in the confusion of the conflict, the editors, 
unfortunately for the fame of our State, laying down the pen and taking 
up the sword. The population of the country consisted, almost entirely, 
of persons engaged in agricultural pursuits, sparsely settled, at remote 
distances, rarely drawn together by objects of general interest, with no 
large towns or cities as centres of communication and rallying points for 
mutual defence, and with little or no mail facilities, from the sparse and 
scattered condition of the population. 

Hence, from the peculiarities of our colonial condition, being without 
a press, without large towns as common rallying centres, with but little 
communication by letter ; (from which private source, many of the most 
stirring incidents of the war, in other sections, have been derived ;) hence 
arose the great ignorance, mystery and darkness, which, for so long a time, 
hung like a pall over the glorious history of the war in North Carolina. 

True, the great leading outlines of what our sires were doing for the 
good cause were well enough known. It was well enough known, that 
our most trusted patriots were in the field, cheering their countrymen to 
arms. It was well enough known, that they had driven Governor Martin 
from his palace at Newborn, and had compelled him to take refuge on 
board a British man-of-war, lying at the mouth of Cape Fear River ; that 
they had compelled the British stamp-agent to resign his office, under the 
open threat of a house-razing for his residence with tar and feathers for 
himself. It was well enough known that Caswell and Lillington 
were in the field, and had won a triumphant victory over two thousand 

30 Revolutionary Era of North Carolina. [August 

tories and British at Moore's Creek Bridge, early in the war ; that Howe 
was the Harry Hotspur of the South • that Harnet was the Sam Adams 
of North Carolina ; that Davie was as wise in council as he was valiant in 
battle. It was well enough known that we were sending vessels laden with 
provisions, to relieve the wants of our suffering Boston brethren, groaning 
under the pressure of the Boston Port Bill. It was well enough known 
.that North Carolina was the place of refuge for the brave patriots of our 
sister colonies to the south of us, whose territory was overrun by British 
arms; and that North Carolina had thrown a wall of fire in the way of 
Cornwallis' march to effect a junction with the British forces in Virginia; 
a wall of fire through which, it is true, he cut his way ; but with his 
feathers badly scorched ; all historians now admitting that his quasi victory 
at Guilford was, in fact, a triumph of the American arms ; and that his 
feeble resistance at Yorktown, that crowning glory of the war, was a con- 
sequence of Guilford — the feeble, staggering blow of a conquered man. 

These, and more like these, were known, and well known : but alas ! 
how little was known, or is yet known, of other, but not less interesting, 
features of the struggle which was then raging in the rebellious colony of 
North Carolina ; the fierce encounter with the Tories ; the ambush ; the 
skirmish; the surprise; the endurance; the privation; the hair-breadth- 
'scape ; the sundered kindred tie ; the lusty valor of the young but un- 
known brave; the sire's counsel to arms; the romantic story of woman's trials 
and sacrifices, of woman's courage and encouragement ; the noble mothers 
of the Revolution — Sparta's record shows none nobler or more heroic. 

Where is North Carolina's record of all these and more ? Where lies 
the guilt of the wasted treasure ? Where are the traditions of our Revo- 
lutionary ancestors ? Alas ! traditions are like the words of the Sibyline 
Prophetess : written upon the leaves of the forest and scattered to the 
winds. It is the fault of those who followed immediately upon the Rev- 
olutionary Era, that those treasures of history, richer far to us than gems 
of Orient ; more valuable to our children than all the gold which Califor- 
nia has ever furnished, "or all which she yet locks from the cupidity of 
man in the virgin chambers of her snow-clad sierras," are lost forever. 

Honor, all honor, to those who, in our day, are engaged in the pious 
task of repairing the damage as best they may, by gathering up the scat- 
tered fragments of the squandered treasure. Honor, all honor, especially 
to the names of David L. Swain, of the University of North Carolina, 
David Caruthers, of Western North Carolina, and Francis L. Hawks, 
of New York. 

Strange as it may appear, even some of those brilliant achievements of 
our Revolution which have rendered the names of their authors immortal, 
and which we now cherish as the brightest gems in our coronet of jewels, 

1859.] Revolutionary Era of North Carolina. 81 

were comparatively unknown, or not thoroughly understood, until long 
after the Revolutionary Era had passed away. The Mecklenburg Declar- 
ation of Independence, that bright page in our annals, that immortal act 
which has crowned the Brevards, the Alexanders, the Davidsons, the 
Polks, the Grahams, the Morrisons, the Averys, with imperishable fame, 
and won for our old State the honor of having planted the first banner of 
Independence upon the ramparts of the Revolution ; that act did not be- 
come a fully recognized historical fact, until nearly half a century after 
that — 20th of May, 1775 — when it was accomplished. 

So, too, with the War of the Regulation — the first conflict of which 
history gives us any account, between American citizens with rifles in 
their hands and soldiers under the immediate command of the roj^al 
Governor Tryon; the significant forerunner of the Revolution; the means 
in the hands of Providence, by which the hearts of our people were trained 
for the coming crisis, by which they were first taught the great lesson in 
human rights, that " Resistance to Tyrants is obedience to God" — a con- 
test which establishes for North Carolina the honor, the great honor, that 
it was her soil which drank the blood of the first martyrs in the cause of 
American liberty. And, yet, how long was the character of the Regula- 
tors misunderstood ; how little was understood of the motives which 
prompted them to resist, even unto death, the oppressive acts of Governor 
Tryon and the British authorities ; how completely, and for how long a 
time, did the English version hold possession of the public mind ; but yet, 
just so sure as " the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church," just 
so sure is it that the blood of the Regulators was the seed of the Revolu- 
tion, in that part of North Carolina where it was poured out — seed, which 
sprang up and bore abundant fruits at Guilford, at Ramsour's Mills, at 
King's Mountain, at Eutaw, and other bloody fields. 

The battle of the Alamance, fought by the troops of the British Gov- 
ernor, Tryon, and the citizens of Western North Carolina, on th.Q 14th of 
May, 1771, preceded the battle of Lexington nearly four years. It was a 
battle in which large bodies of armed men were in hostile array on either 
side — in which blood was poured out on both sides — no less than sixteen of 
Tryon's men having been killed by the unerring rifle of one man, Pugh; it 
was a battle fought to redress onerous and galling wrongs — to redress un- 
lawful and oppressive extortions of British officials — oppressions long com- 
plained of and grievously borne, against which the laws, as administered, af- 
forded no protection, or but the mockery of relief; it was fought at a time 
when the whole country, from New England to Georgia, was uttering mur- 
murs, deep and threatening, against the violated rights of our country, when 
the stamp act had been passed — when the great heart of our country was 
swelling with the purpose of resistance; it was fought at a time when ova- 

32 Revolutionary Era of North Carolina. [August 

wisest statesmen and most brave were pausing ere they counseled their 
handful of undisciplined countrymen to draw the sword against the vete- 
ran soldiers of England, who had learned the art of war under its greatest 
masters, and borne victorious banners from the bloodiest battle fields of 
Europe ; a battle which, although in its result a partial defeat of our coun- 
trymen, was a great moral triumph for our country. 

. Yet, justly entitled as is this great battle of the Alamance, to a bold, 
bright page in the history of our whole country — great as it undoubtedly 
is in all its aspects and bearings, in the time when it was fought, in the 
objects for which it was fought, in the personal daring which it exhibited 
and the resistance to oppression which it signalized, in its touching inci- 
dents, its moral triumph, and in the fruits which soon sprang from the 
seed then sown in blood — yet, its name, and fame, and character slept un- 
heard, or worse, misunderstood and misrepresented, for half a century, be- 
fore it found a herald to blazon its glories to the world. 

Where lies the blame ? On whose shoulders rests the moral guilt of 
such neglect ? 

"We are sometimes called a plain, unpretending people. It is not a bad 
name — it might be worse — it ought to be better. 

I once heard a distinguished citizen of our State, the most able, per- 
haps, that the State has ever produced — the late Judge Gaston — say in a 
public speech, that he trusted it would be long before we exchanged that 
title for one less equivocal. For myself, were I to consult my own choice, 
I should prefer a title with something more of the positive in it ; I should 
choose it a little stronger — a little less milk-and-water, and a little more 
of the brandy-cocktail about it. But, really, it appears to me that those 
sons of North Carolina, who permitted the glories of Alamance to live so 
long unsung, deserve no better, if, indeed, they do not deserve a worse 
title to fame, than that of being plain and unpretending. 

From this hasty reference to the achievements in North Carolina, during 
the heroic period in the history of our country, and the no less trying 
times which immediately preceded that eventful period, let us turn for a 
moment to the character Of the men, who, with unshrinking courage, led 
the van-guard in the fight, and flung North Carolina's banner to the bat- 
tle and the breeze; — the Nestors, the Achilles, and the Ajax Telemons of 
the Revolution. 

First, among that glorious galaxy of heroes, to whom we can point with 
the same proud spirit with which the mother of the Gracchi, when asked 
for her jewels, pointed to her sons, I place the name of one who was the 
leading spirit in the early dawn of the Revolution ; whose sad fate it was 
to die, with his sword half drawn from the scabbard, while the gloom of 
uncertainty was yet hanging over the destiny of his beloved country^ but 

1859.] Revolutionary Era of North Carolina. 33 

all the more deserving of grateful recognition from us, that he died with- 
out reaping the glories of a war, in which he had counseled his country- 
men to draw the sword. That man was John Harvey, of Perquimans. 

Of vigorous understanding and determined spirit; with large wealth, 
and the prestige of great ancestral distinction ; — being a lineal descendant 
of that John Harvey, who, a hundred years before him, was Governor of 
North Carolina; — John Harvey, of Perquimans, was the natural ralfying 
centre of the patriots who opposed the oppressions of Great Britain. He 
was, unquestionably, the foremost man of his time; holding high official 
positions; leading on all important committees; Speaker of the popular 
branch of the Assembly; and vested with extraordinary powers, when it 
was determined to resist the encroachments of Great Britain. He " rode 
upon the whirlwind and directed the storm," ere it burst in all its fury. 
But, alas ! he sank into an early grave ! He died when the reveille drums 
of the Revolution were calling his countrymen to arms, but he lived long 
enough to show the part he would have acted in that great struggle, if 
death had not called him away to a patriot's reward. 

Whoever would renew his vows of patriotism, at the tomb of a true pa- 
triot, let him visit the grave of John Harvey, which is yet to be seen upon 
the banks of the Albemarle, in the neck that bears his name. 

Among the patriots who met the shock of war, and shared the perils 
and the glories of the conflict, the foremost rank, has, I think, by com- 
mon consent, been assigned to Richard Caswell. Caswell was equally 
distinguished as a soldier and civilian. He commanded at the Battle of 
Moore's Creek, and with a small force defeated a large body of the enemy. 
In other engagements he was greatly distinguished. His administration 
as Governor of North Carolina, during three perilous years of the war, 
was marked by singular wisdom and fidelity. By some of his too partial 
admirers, he has been compared with Washington, that great Colossus of 
our country, who stands apart — alone — without a parallel — " a mark, a 
sign, and a wonder, to guide the wayfarer in the pilgrimage of life." 

Other names, in quick succession, crowd upon my memory and clog 
my utterance. 

Sam Johnston, a Nestor in council; that man of iron will and flinty 
purpose, on whom the lamented Harvey's mantle fell. 

Davie, the young brave; the eloquent, the chivalrous, the daring, the 
gifted William R. Davie; the Chevalier Bayard of the war; "the 
knight without fear and without reproach ;" the accomplished gentleman, 
the polite scholar; the statesman, the soldier; afterward, our national re- 
presentative at the court of Versailles ; the Patrick Henry of North Caro- 
lina. Oh ! that he had a Wirt to tell the story of his life. 

34 Revolutionary Era of North Carolina. [August 

Hooper, whose ability as a writer was recognized and appropriated by 
the Continental Congress. 

The enthusiastic Moore, whose patriotic heart was fired by the warm 
blood of the Emerald Isle. 

Honest old Cornelius Harnett, whose voice first rang the stirring 
words of our national Declaration of Independence into the ears of a North 
Carolina audience. 

The rough, but gallant, Davidson, who fell at Cowan's Ford, and min- 
gled his purple life-blood with the blue waters of the Catawba. 

And other names, whose glorious deeds time will not allow me to enu- 

Nash, who fell at Brandywine, and Howe, and Lillington, and 
Shelby, and Polk, and Graham, and Rutherford, and Sumner : 
Carolinians, all. 

These, these, are our jewels. Wear them next your heart of hearts ; 
wear them like a conqueror's wreath; wear them with the same proud 
step, with which the chieftain wears the nodding plume, when marching 
. to his " tented field" of glory. Let old men tell the story of their deeds. 
Let manhood emulate, and childhood lisp them. Let banners flaunt their' 
names. And in that day — should that day ever come — when North 
Carolina calls again for the blood of her sons ; those names, those deeds ; 
like the fabled dragon's teeth, will spring up into armed men, ready to 
pour out again, their blood like water, for their country. 

[Note. — Perhaps the author meant Eli W. Caruthers instead of 
David Caruthers, on page 30; and the 16th instead of the 14th of 
May, as the date of the battle of the Alamance. — Eds.] 

The Insect World. — Professor Agassiz says, that more than a life- 
time would be necessary to enumerate the various species of insects and 
describe their appearanee. Meiger, a G-erman, collected and described 
six hundred species of flies, which he collected in a district of ten miles 
circumference. There have been collected in Europe twenty thousand 
species of insects preying on wheat. In Berlin, two professors are en- 
gaged in collecting, observing, and describing insects and their habits, 
and already have published five large volumes upon the insects which 
attack forest trees. 

System. — Curran said to Grattan, you would be the greatest man of 
your age, if you would buy a few yards of red tape, and tie up your bills 
and papers. 

1859.] The Cotter's Soliloquy. 35 



"Men lapped by luxury, unused to toil, 
Accustomed ever to fair Fortune's smile, 
Rich as to wealth, indulged in pampered ease, 
Caressed by every charm with power to please, 
Are esteemed happy ; and themselves are sure 
There is no pleasure they cannot procure. 
Yet not to these would I direct my song — 
The life of joy like theirs cannot be long. 
Let but reverses come, their pleasures fly ; 
The friends who shared with them the sunny sky, 
Like birds of summer, leave them to their fate — 
Then comes repentance, but 'tis then too late. 
I do not sing for these — let them enjoy 
Life's shade and sunshine, mingled pain and joy. 
The humble peasant now employs my strains, 
Whom Fortune's bloated scion oft disdains. 
Yet not to him alone — to all the earth 
Who esteem pleasures by their real worth, 
I fain would sing — alike to friend and foe 
Where dwells true happiness 'tis mine to show. 
At simple joys philosophers may smile ; 
The fool may deem the poor man's pleasures vile, 
May look upon the peasant with a sneer — 
His toilsome days, his coarse, but healthy cheer : 
But who would exchange places — who would give 
The peasant's joy for wealth's prerogative? 
The humble farmer leaves his healthy cot, 
And leaves what ties to life in that dear spot ! 
All that can bind the heart of man to life — 
A frugal, virtuous and loving wife, 
The ever constant friend, who loves to share 
With him the load of toil, of hope, and care ; 
Rejoices with him when he meets success, 
And soothes his sorrow when he meets distress. 
She bathes his fevered brow when sickness come, 
And is in all the goddess of his home. 
He sees his children busied with their games, 
And as he leaves his heart repeats their names ; 
He blesses these sweet pledges of his love, 
And prayes their safety from the Power above. 
His heart is light, and all around seems gay — 
Above the birds, below the flowerets play ; 
The fields look pleasant, and the daily toil 
Is undergone with cheerfulness — a smile 
Illumes his face — he blesses his low sphere 
When fancy brings his wife and children near. 
He labors, but he thinks — ! blessed gift, 
That gives the laborer poor the power to lift 
His soul from toil, and revel all at ease 
In joys of home, of heav'n — of where he please. 
What though his neighbor lolled while he ha3 wrought, 

36 The Cotter s Soliloqvy. [August 

He owns a treasure in his pleasant thought. 

But to the honest only this belongs — 

Whose heart is blackened by a life of wrongs, 

Finds in his thoughts a hell — in vain he strives 

To fly his mind, it dogs him while he lives. 

" The Statesman busied with the cares of state 

Passes his time in constant self-debate. 

Here must a foe be met, a victory won'; 

Here shout reply to shout, and gun to gun ; 

Here must he scale a politician's wit, 

To do his county some great benefit ; 

Here must he counteract some treach'rous plot ; 

Here must untie some worse than Gordian knot. 

Domestic joy the statesman never knows, 

Nor stops to taste the pleasures of repose. 

To days of labor night brings no relief — 

His dreams are fearful, and his slumber brief. 

He feels his throbbing pulses, and laments 

The endless toil that brings no recompense. 

At dawn the crafty ruler strives to hide 

The trace of care too bitter to subside ; 

With smiles he decks his face, with great address 

Assumes a look and tone of carelessness. 

But careless only seems — that restless eye, 

Despite his efforts, gives his smile the lie. 

That lofty brow where Reason has her throne 

Unwrinkled now, scowls darkly when alone. 

That voice enchanting all within its reach, 

So rich and charming with its honied speech, 

Knows curses only when in solitude, 

He walks his chamber in no pleasant mood. 

Can he be happy ? Can the joys of life 

Exist in such a heart, where only strife 

And stately bustle can conspire to throw 

A charm around existence here below ? 

A dreadful state is his — in life unblest, 

He toils and shines awhile, then sinks to rest. 

But is it rest? Ask of the trembling soul, 

E'en while it shudders in its hellish goal — 

E'en while tormenting conscience rages high, 

Ask the poor soul if ease or rest is nigh. 

"The soldier, hard in heart and stout in arms, 
Who revels blissful amid war's alarms, 
'Mong Northern glaciers drags his wearied limbs, 
Where Nature lavishes her strangest whims ; 
In Southern deserts, 'neath the burning sun, 
He proudly boasts the spoils his valor won. 
He stakes existence in the doubtful game, 
And perils health, and life, and heaven for fame. 
And what is fame ? A dew-drop on the grass 
That glistens in the sunlight as you pass, 
Exists and shines, then vanishes away, 
As does the dew before the heat of day. 
The soldier leaves his children, home, and wife ; 
In Fortune's favor puts his hopes of life — 
His prospects of success ; and onward flies 
To gather glory, till he sinks and dies. 
What is there so repays the hero's toils l 

1859]. The Cotter's Soliloquy. 37 

Is it the love of inen, or battle's spoils ? 

Does he delight in viewing scenes of blood ? 

Or does he pant to tramp the gory flood ? 

When he has fought his fights the soldier dies, 

Hots unlamented where his carcass lies ; 

But as his soul wheels up the heavenly vault, 

Too late he sorrows for his lifetime's fault ; 

Reviews each field of blood ; counts up the slain ; 

And hears his victims groan with deadly pain. 

He sees the hearths his guilty hands made bare, 

And yields his conscience up to black despair. 

Mortals may loudly laud their conquerors, 

But bloody hands God's holy heart abhors. 

The proudest feet that tread th' ensanguined field ; 

The bravest soul that never knew to yield ; 

The sternest eye that e'er beheld the gore 

Of wounded enemies, and sighed for more ; 

The men whose sweetest music is to hear 

Foes' dying groans, their own victorious cheer — 

To hear crowns tumbling with a crushing crash, 

And feel the deadly squadron's solid dash — 

To these when death has come, how sad the hour 

That drags them headlong from their vaunted power ! 

For earth they lived, for earthly fame they strove — 

And wounds, and blood, and death their only love. 

Repentance comes, but 'twill not give them now 

The stainless heart of yore — with haughty brow, 

They bend beneath the Almighty's chast'ning rod, 

And, cursing, stand before an angry God. 

Now hear their doom : ' Behold, yon trembling soul, 

Above, around, whom tides of anger roll ; 

This is thy work — go share his wretched fate, 

And let his curse add fury to thy hate.' 

"Yon stately ship, careering o'er the deep, 
Its freight of lives conveys with stately sweep. 
Oft has she witnessed ocean's sternest frown, 
And stemmed the blast, while other barks went down. 
The rude, but generous, sailor sees her swim, 
And proudly turns to scan her graceful trim — 
The tapering masts, the well-stretched sails, the deck 
So well arranged; nor dreams he of a wreck.* 
Beside the ship he sees the wavelets bow, 
And foaming, turn to kiss the conquering prow. 
Reclining on the deck, his fancy turns 
To where Equator's sun in glory burns ; 
Or where, in Northern climes, the icebergs roll, 
To ward the sailor from the long-sought poll. 
In quick review before him pass the toils, 
The numerous dangers, and the cheerful smiles 
His ocean life has known — his heart beats fast, 
When mem'ry turns to gaze upon the past. 
The little cot that nursed his boyish form, 
Till it was strong enough to breast the storm ; 
His mother's gentle voice, her loving eye 
Reproving, when he erred, so tenderly ; 
The little sister, whom despite her dread, 
To view the ocean's wrath he often led. 
And in whose willing ear he told his tales 

The Cotter's Soliloquy. [August 

Of dangers undergone, of calms and gales — 

But while he dreams, the sky is overcast, 

The threat'ning storm-clouds gather thick and fast ; 

The thunder mutt'ring in the distance shows 

That Nature now has laid aside repose ; 

The close-reefed sail, the captain's hoarse command, 

Proclaim too well that danger is at hand. 

Soon o'er the deep the storm-god comes in wrath, 

And foam, and wrecks, and corpses strew his path. 

lie howls around the ship till ev'ry sense 

Is swallowed in the war of elements. 

The waves at last awakened from their sleep, 

Marshal their watery forces o'er the deep ; 

They surge, and foam, and swell, and sink, and rise, 

Till every billow seems to touch the skies. 

The shouts of men upon the battle field, 

When first the stubborn foe begins to yield ; 

The cannon thundering on the smoky plain, 

Hurling its grape-shot on the foe like rain — 

These all are grand, but when the storm clouds lower, 

And ocean rises to assert its power, 

They sink to nought — the conflict of the wave 

No mortal ever lived who dared to brave ; 

The cannon's loudest roar must silence be 

When thunders forth heav'n's dread artillery ; 

The murderous shot that ploughs along the plain 

Stops short when heav'n's fierce lightning sweeps the main ; 

Each march and countermarch the soldier craves 

Is nought to the manoeuvering of the waves. 

Dreadful the conflict, and the gallant boat 

Bids fair o'er ev'ry threat'ning sea to float ; 

But soon a trembling voice is heard to cry, 

'The ship has sprung a leak — prepare to die.' 

Then o'er the waters bursts the fearful shriek^ 

Of agony too deep for words to speak ; 

Then floats to heaven the short, but earnest prayer 

That all may find a kind Protector there. 

"Nor greater joy the restless trav'ler knows, 
Who seeks in distant lands to flee his woes — 
The scene he shifts, but never shifts his mind, 
Who seeks in other lands relief to find.* 
Who loves to view sweet Nature's varied face ; 
Who changes home with every change of place, 
Contented with his lot whate'er it be — 
In love at once with wealth and poverty ; 
Who is in calm and storm alike possessed 
Of peaceful thoughts, and an unruffled breast — 
He may indeed be happy; but who bears 
For home, or friends, or kindred, any cares, 
Must still be wretched, whether Fortune's smile, 
Or sad disaster follow him the while. 
What though impelled by curiosity 
The wondrous sights of other lands to see ; 
Though Grecia's fields of glory lend their charms — 

"Caelum, non animum mutant, qui trans mare currunt." 

Hor.— Lib. i, Epist. xi. 

1859.] The Cotter's Soliloquy. 39 

The child of heroes, wise in arts and arms ; 
Though Egypt's ruins pregnant still with fame 
Kecall the glories of a fallen name ; 
Though every seat of learning, power, and art 
From their neglected graves in turn could start — 
Though these, and more than these, his sight might bless, 
He could not but lament their emptiness. 
The sculptor's cunning may impart to stone 
A grace that Nature would not blush to own ; 
But here his work must cease — to form the eye, 
The breast alive with thoughts, 'twere vain to try. 
We may admire the chiseled monument, 
But soon our admiration will be spent — 
The form is perfect, but with all his care 
The sculptor cannot place the spirit there. 
Thus with the traveller ; his ev'ry joy, 
However sweet, is sure of its alloy ; 
And though o'er many distant lands he roam, 
He ne'er can feel the solid joys of home. 
" In every occupation we can trace 
The curse that blights the comforts of our race— 
The soldier 's murdered, and the sailor wrecked ; 
The trav'ler 's swift career too oft is checked 
By dagger, or by poison, or fatigue, 
As all alone he threads the endless league ; 
The statesman sinks beneath his load of care, 
And finds, too late, that pleasure is not there ; 
The sculptor makes the marble almost speak, 
But finds at last his powers all too weak ; 
Upon the pictured landscape one can gaze, 
And lavish on the painter ev'ry praise ; 
But never can a picture be complete, 
Till life 's imparted to the senseless sheet. 
It were an useless toil to number more, 
To show more plainly our misfortune's store. 
There is one lot, however, wholly free 
From all that appertains to misery — 
The humble peasant in his humble garb 
But seldom feels misfortune's painful barb. 
To toil is sweet to him, 'tis sweet to rest ; 
'Tis sweet to clasp his children to his breast; 
'Tis sweet to rise at dawn and hail the light ; 
'Tis sweet to watch the shadows fall at night ; 
'Tis sweet his wife's rich store of love to earn ; 
'Tis sweet to leave her, sweeter to return. 
His day 8 are pleasant and his nights serene, 
And round-faced Plenty smiles upon the scene." 

Scarce had the peasant finished, when behold ! 
A dreadful sight before his eyes unrolled : 
His cottage, lovliest spot upon the green, 
Burst into,flames — how fearful to be seen ! 
A shriek of agony bursts through the air : 
"0! help-^-O! help — our child is burning there!" 
In vain the maddened father strives to save 
His lovely offspring from a fiery grave ; 
The burning timbers fall upon the heap — 
The child is sleeping her eternal sleep. 

40 T}ie Cotters Soliloquy. [August 

The sorrowing father learned, alas ! too late 
That pain can reach the humble as the great. 
He learned that Death is ready to destroy 
The gray-haired father and the beardless boy ; 
That age or station never can restrain 
The strokes of sorrow, nor the shafts of pain. 
He learned that they alone enjoy a heaven, 
To -whom the glorious crown above is given. 
Religion is the only thing that gives 
The erring mortal comfort while he lives ; 
And 'tis religion only that can be 
The endless comfort of eternity. 


The passion for novel reading, so prevalent in this country, gives birth 
annually to hundreds of silly books which deserve much; more to be thrown 
into the fire, than stowed away in the brains of honest citizens. This 
passion, increasing at every gratification, wholly vitiates the taste for the 
correct and beautiful in literature, and gives employment to men, who in 
any other occupation, would scarcely rise to mediocrity, and who are cer- 
tainly far below mediocrity, as writers. The public, by intrusting their 
taste to such poor keepers, frequently form a wrong standard of merit, 
and praise or condemn a book in proportion to the excitement it produces. 
We look in vain among many of the standard authors of the day for the 
pure diction, and correct ideas of the more classical period, when Scott 
and his contemporaries flourished and pleased. A few writers still en- 
deavor to preserve the purity of taste, that characterized the time I have 
just spoken of; but by far the greater part of them, while they copy the 
faults, ignore the beauties of earlier writers. Conspicuous among the latter 
stands Mr. Bennett, remarkable for no great originality of thought — if I 
may judge of him by the work before me — nor very select in his language, 
he manages to carry us over page after page by sheer excitement. The 
peculiar forte of Mr. Bennett lies in his selection of events, and from this 
cause alone the present book is even readable. The scene is in Texas ; 
the time selected is that immediately preceding the late war with Mexico. 
The principal characters undergo a variety of misfortunes ; are lost on a 
prairie, captured by Indians, adopted into the tribe, rescued by friends, 
taken by robbers, rescued by a troop of ' Texan Rangers,' captured by 
Mexicans, again rescued, and all hands are married ; so ends the book. 
I cannot give a longer account of the events ; for my review is confined to 
narrow limits, but I will give my opinions of the book as briefly as pos- 

Any one would notice, before he had read many pages of this novel, 
the want of probability in the events chosen. Every picture of life that 

1859] Clara Moreland. 41 

is drawn is distorted, and on comparing it with nature, fails in many re- 
spects. And since the principal beauty of every picture or description 
consists in its close resemblance to nature, he who fails in this cannot be 
said to do well. A few instances of Mr. Bennett's ill success in this re- 
spect, must suffice. When captured by the Indians, and condemned to 
death, he makes the evident love of an Indian maiden, conceived for his 
hero at first sight, the means of saving his life and that of Clara, with 
whom he was in love. It is surely a new feature in the scene of passions, 
to make jealousy — the jealousy of an Indian too — the instrument of kind 
acts to one who causes that feeling. Again, when taken by the robber 
chief, who was his rival for the affections of Clara, and his private enemy, 
the hero is hanged in a deserted forest ; but even in his last gasp is cut 
down by a friend, who very fortunately chanced to be near. At another 
time, Harley, one of the principal personages, is gagged and bound hand 
and foot by the same robber, and buried alive in a deep, dark cave. But 
his friends, led by fate, thinking he was far away, went from their direct 
route, found the cavern, and determined to explore it contrary to their 
better judgment, and by that means freed Harley from a pit covered over 
with stones. This was certainly a miraculous deliverance ; but as the days 
for miracles are past, none are now so credulous as to believe such things. 

Time will not permit me to enter more fully into details on this subject; 
but I must pass to another great fault of this book — its want of plot and 
method. I am by no means a stickler for too much method and stiffness 
in books like this, but some probability, some connection of one event 
with another, and dependence on each other, are indispensable. This 
work is wholly devoid of plot ; the author selects two persons, and makes 
them undergo all the misfortunes that his somewhat imaginative mind can 
huddle together. Each chapter is a story in itself, almost unconnected 
both with what precedes and what follows, except that the same characters 
are used throughout the book. Mr. Bennett shows a remarkable aptness 
in his choice of improbable difficulties, and improbable deliverances. He 
leads us a head-long chase after his hero, and frequently seems as much 
astonished to find him in danger, as any of his readers can be. Then he 
has to stop and devise some means of escape, and in his haste never chooses 
the natural way. His way of treating his hero, reminds one of a blind 
man pushing another blind man at the top of his speed through a place 
that both are ignorant of : soon both of them tumble over a stump, and 
begin to rub their noddles in astonishment, and ask each other " what's 
the matter ?" One can almost see the author rub his own pate, when he 
has pushed his hero over a larger stump than usual. 

Mr. Bennett by no means shows a talent for character painting. Give 
a statue the power of locomotion, and it will do as well as the best and 


42 Clara Moreland. — Bettie and I. [August 

most life-like of his creatures. Clara, the principal female character, is a 
mere nothing — a cow with a bonnet on would do as well. She sometimes 
" throws her arms around somebody's neck, and vents her grief in tears." 
If it were not for such sentences as this scattered over the book, one could 
very readily think her an electrified dead woman. Dundenah, the Indian 
princess, has a character not a whit better than that of Clara. At first, 
you are led to believe her a stern, heartless savage ; but she soon becomes 
as whining and as fond of crying as the best of them. The hero himself 
is not much better than either of them; for in more than one place we 
find a sentence like the following : " Let me weep ! let me weep, it may 
appear childish, but it will relieve my aching heart" — aching because he 
had met his friend — " and impulsively I threw my arms around his neck, 
and sobbed upon his breast/' Poor man ! truly his feeling must have 
overpowered him. All the other dramatis j>erso?ise are on a par with those 
I have mentioned. One sentence in the book itself is a just criticism on 
the characters of all. One of the party says: "We all seem to be the 
foot-balls of Fate, who kicks us about as she pleases." 


We wandered on the sea-shore, 

The waves were running high ; 
But naught cared we for wind and wave— 
Bettie and I. 

The spray kept dashing o'er us, 
As with the rain 'twould viej 
Yet, not the less merrily we laughed — 
Bettie and I. 

Then, sitting on the breakers, 
We wondered, with a sigh, 
If we could e'er — could e'er forget — 
Bettie and I. 

Two vessels in the distance 

Passed, together sailing, by : 
We thought how like ourselves they were- 
Bettie and I. 

For thus, on life's broad ocean, 
We thought we could descry 
Ourselves together sailing — 

Bettie and I. 

1859.] A Visit to the Tower of London. 43 



After partaking bountifully of a good English breakfast, qualified 
with a little of Allsop's best, which our good natured landlady of the 
" Union " had prepared for us, our party feeling desirous of seeing the 
wonders of the great city, and wishing to take advantage of the beautiful 
morning, which is something rather rare in London, started from our 
hotel in a quandary. So many things were to be seen that it was a diffi- 
cult matter to determine which to visit first. We were in the heart of a 
great, busy and ancient city, at Charing Cross, from which point we 
could take a " bus " to any part of London. Where shall we go ? that 
was the question. We have seen the royal palaces and Westminster 
Abbey, within whose consecrated and venerable walls lay entombed the 
kings, queens and great men which this noble Island has produced. 
Now let us visit the famous Tower of London, but not with the same 
emotions of piety and reverence. Upon yonder hill we see its walls 
grown hoary by the lapse of a thousand years. Begun by William the 
Conqueror, to quench that love of liberty ever present in the bosom of 
the Anglo-Saxon race, the Great or White Tower stands now as a monu- 
ment of the tyranny that was exercised over the Saxon by his ruthless 
Norman conqueror. Having determined to spend the morning in that 
part of the city about the town, we proceeded to Hungerford Bridge, took 
a boat down the Thames to a landing a short distance from the point of 
our destination, where taking a cab and riding through Billingsgate 
market (in which locality fish women reign supreme) we were in a few 
minutes at the South-west angle of the outer wall, which is the prin- 
cipal entrance. Having crossed the bridge and procured our tickets 
of admission, we were ushered into the ante-room of the armories which 
is for the reception of those who have obtained tickets. In this room it 
is necessary to wait until conducted into the armories by the wardens, who 
are obliged by law to attend every half hour, and take round the armories 
those who have assembled. While seated in this room one almost felt as 
though he were transported back to the times when were immured within 
the walls of this ancient pile so many prisoners of State — not that there 
was anything peculiar about the room, but from the grave and venerable 
appearance of the Wardens, who arc meritorious old soldiers, dressed in 
the exact livery of the yeomen of the guard of the time of Henry VIIL 
The account that is given of this order is — that they were anciently the 
servants of the constable of the Tower, employed by him to guard the 

44 A Visit to the Tovjer of London. [August 

prisoners and watch the gates ; but, as a reward for their kindness to the 
Duke of Somerset, Protector during the minority of Edward VI, while a 
prisoner in the Tower, they were appointed extraordinary yeomen of the 
guard, and have ever since worn the dress of that body and lived in the 

Before proceeding further let me give a brief description, or father 
explanation, of the plan of this immense structure. I shall not attempt 
to be very exact either in the explanation of the plan, or in a description 
of the contents of the Tower; suffice it to say that the whole is encompass- 
ed by a deep moat, supplied with water from the Thames, but which, from 
its insalubrity, has been for several years kept dry, and grass now covers 
its sides and bottom. Within this moat are two immensely thick walls, 
the outer and inner, the former enclosing an area, I suppose, of thirteen 
or fourteen acres. In the inner wall are, at convenient distances, twelve 
towers, to each of which are appropriate names — such as Bloody Tower, &c. 
The White Tower, the oldest of all, occupying the centre of the fortifi- 
cations, was built, as aforesaid, by William, the Norman, to awe into sub- 
jection the rebellious spirit of his new subjects. Such is this famous cas-. 
tie, of which all have read so much, and whose stones, could they speak, 
could tell of such scenes of horror and bloodshed as would make us 
blush to own that our fathers were ruled over by such monsters. The 
White Tower is a magnificent specimen of Norman architecture ; it is 
nearly one hundred feet high, one hundred and sixteen feet long, and 
ninety-six feet wide, and has turrets at each angle ; the external walls are 
.fifteen feet in thickness. While wandering about in this building, ad- 
miring, and wondering at, the many curious specimens of ancient work- 
manship, a small doorway in the wall, in Queen Elizabeth's armory, was 
observed, communicating with a cell ten feet long and eight wide, which, 
according to tradition, is the one in which was confined Sir Walter Raleigh, 
and here, it is said, he wrote his History of the World, of which Tytler 
says that "it possesses a purity of language remarkable for the times in 
which he lived." What a commentary it was upon the mutability of hu- 
man fortune for Raleigh, the eminent statesman, and highly honored of 
the Queen, to find himself immured within the precincts of a narrow and 
comfortless dungeon ! The first apartment into which our guide conduct- 
ed us was the Horse Armory. In this room are deposited the different 
armors worn by the kings and noblemen of different ages. The armor is 
exhibited upon equestrian statues of the different owners. Thus you can 
trace the change in the war gear of our ancestors from the time of the 
Norman conquests down to the reign of William III, when, I believe, de- 
fensive armor was abandoned. Here are also deposited the various trophies 
won by the British arms, from, I believe, every civilized nation in the 

1859.] A Visit to the Tower of London. 45 

world, except the United States, and from many barbarous tribes. The 
old soldier, that conducted us through, evidently took great pleasure in 
pointing out and explaining the uses of the different weapons, and telling 
when, where, and from whom they were taken. After looking about 
and listening for some time to his prattle, I naively asked to see some 
from the other side of the water. He good naturedly replied that, "Old 
England had never had a chance to get any ; we were good friends," and 
so forth. Modesty forbade that I should tell him that in this I concurred, 
but still did not think that it was from not trying to get a "chance." We 
all concurred in thinking that they made desperate endeavors for a "chance" 
at New Orleans, in January, 1815. 

The history of the twelve smaller towers of the inner ward is replete 
with incidents of crime, bloodshed and horror. To attempt a description 
of them would be tedious and unprofitable ; there is scarcely a room, it is 
thought, in them that is not connected with the history of the crimes of 
the kings and parliaments of England. Beginning with the Bloody 
Tower, which, it is said, was the scene of the murder of the Royal Chil- 
dren, sons of Edward IV., down to the Flint, or Little Hell, as it was 
called, from the narrowness and darkness of its dungeons, the heart of a 
civilized man sickens at, and grows weary of, the same tale of oppressions 
and murders. One will find, in rambling over these prisons, many in- 
scriptions upon the walls, some of which breathe the spirit of true reli- 
gion, and show a soul bowed down with the sorrows and oppressions in 
this life, and hopeless of peace and comfort this side of the grave. Over 
the fire place in one of the rooms in Beauchainp Tower, is to be found 
the following inscription : " Quanto plus affectionis pro Christo in hoc 
saeculo, tanto plus gloriae cum Christo in futuro." It is said to be the 
work of the Earl of Arundel, a Roman Catholic nobleman in the reign of 
Queen Elizabeth. 

Being tired of clambering lofty flights of steps and hearing our guide 
tell his accustomed tale of what such and such a place was noted for, we 
all, with one accord, requested him to show us the jewel-house, that wo 
might see the royal crown, &c, of old Mother England. Having shown 
us to the door, and taken from us all sticks, umbrellas, &c, which he placed 
in the corner at the entrance, he told us to advance, and that he would see 
us again when we came out. But I was very certain he would do that, 
for it is a rule from which they never vary — always to see you before you 
leave. Although there is no charge, but still, like our "niggers," they 
conceive such a fondness for you, that they always desire " something to 
remember you by." It is generally necessary to invest a shilling in such 
stock. But pardon me for the digression to the Jewel House. We found 
in this department a middle-aged woman to be "monarch of all she sur- 

46 A Visit to tlte Tower of London. [August 

veyed," pro tern. With a small stick in her hand, she pointed out the 
different pieces of jewelry belonging to the royal family. They were in a 
large glass case, surrounded by a railing. The jewels are exceedingly 
magnificent and costly. To attempt a description would be useless. There 
were the crown of the Queen, the rod of equity, placed in the left hand 
of the sovereign at the coronation, the swords of justice, temporal and 
ecclesiastical, &c, &c. It was quite amusing to hear the description given 
of these jewels by the woman who attended in the room. She had com- 
mitted the story to memory, and sang it off through her nose. It remin- 
ded one very forcibly of the singing geography-schools, where the pupils 
commit, and sing out their lessons. 

I fear I have already tired you by my prolixity, and so will, with a few 
observations upon the tower in its three-fold capacity of palace, fortress and 
prison, conclude. This venerable pile of our ancestors has served in this 
three-fold capacity, and its adaptation for each is remarkable. As a for- 
tress, its position is the best, and from this and the immense strength of 
its walls, it is impregnable. What a feeling of just pride must every Eng- 
lishman experience, when he reflects that this castle of his ancestors, though 
it dates back almost ten centuries, has never yet felt the shock of a for- 
eign foe, and that over its battlements has floated none other than the 
British flag. In the capacity in which we now consider it, it was much 
used in the early ages of English history, when the rights of men were 
ill understood, and when the Island was " rent with civil feud and drench- 
ed in fraternal blood." The possession of the tower was the object sought 
after by each faction, that by means of its strength and security, they 
might better carry on the war with their rivals. But it is as a prison and 
palace, that it is most worthy of attention. In the former capacity, it has 
confined kings, princes and nobles, and its floors have been drenched with 
royal and plebian blood. 

■1859.] Editors' Table. 41 



To the Students ; to the Public ; to the Ladies, and, finally, to all whom it may 
concern : 

The time has at last arrived for the discharge of those duties which your 
kindness has obliged us to undertake; and, we assure you, it is with no 
pretended self-distrust that we set our untried sails for a twelve-month voy- 
age on the troubled waves of public life. 

We have heretofore been happy in having, for critics, our own indulgent little 
College -world ; but to rush at once before the world — it is a thought to make 
the boldest hesitate. Surely it is no cowardice in us to feel our hearts beat 
quick with apprehension just as we are entering that fiery furnace of public 
criticism which it is the lot of all once to pass through. 

If the public determine that our attempts are worthy of the Institution 
which we have the honor to represent, we may well rejoice in the conscious- 
ness of duty well performed ; in the belief that our labor? are not misapplied ; 
in the pleasing reflection that we are not entirely without our use in the lit- 
erary world. If a discriminating public tell us that we write nonsense, we 
shall still have the proud consolation that we have done our utmost, and shall 
hold you equally responsible, for not electing better men ; for we are sure 
that the Class of 1859-'60 have within their ranks material for editing the 

Since our first entrance into office, we have made unremitting efforts to im- 
prove the Magazine, both in style and matter ; and we would beg of your for- 
bearance to look into the case and see what obstacles we have had to contend 
with — to succeed a corps accredited as able as ever strove for our Magazine ; 
to procure and establish a publisher ; to obtain a " sanctum ;" to strive against 
all the predictions of those "wise in their own conceit;" with all the sneers of 
those so destitute of everything resembling public spirit, as to work for the de- 
struction of what it should have been their first care to advance, and, finally, 
against all the want of credit and friends incident to bankruptcy. 

We return our sincere thanks to the two Literary Societies for their financial 
assistance — an act so generous — so long hoped for in vain — so like themselves. 
Under their nourishing patronage, we hope never more to be reduced to so 
miserable an extremity. With the exception of a very few, we have experi- 
enced a unanimity of support from the students truly surprising ; indeed, we 
flatter ourselves, so universal a regard for the Magazine was never before wit- 
nessed. We should be worse than ungrateful, did we fail to express our warm- 
est thanks to the liberal public of North Carolina. Let censorious wiseacres 
cay what they may, but as long as any people respond with such cordiality to 
the call of mere College boys who strive to do their little for the advancement 
of the State, every candid mind must admit them to be full of generous sym- 

48 Editors' Talk. [Angust 

pathy for whatever makes an honest effort to be useful. But, kind public, do 
not expect too much of us ; remember that we are yet untried, and, though every 
faculty with which Providence has endowed us, shall be strained to its farthest 
limits for your entertainment and improvement, that we are not prepared to 
promise anything further than may be reasonably expected of the young and 

The Magazine has been increased sixteen pages in size ; the typography has 
been much improved, and the pages enlarged, so that the present number con- 
tains nearly double the matter of any of its predecessors. We have also, 
against the advice of our best friends, been at much trouble and expense so to 
embellish the Magazine, as to render it at the same time a useful and welcome 
visitant at every fireside in North Carolina. The engravings are by John 
Sartain, of Philadelphia, the artist for the "Eclectic Magazine," who con- 
fessedly stands at the head of his profession. Owing to an inadvertency of 
ours, it was stated in our prospectus, that "each number will contain a 
Lithograph of some distinguished North Carolinian." The likenesses are not 
Lithographs, but the finest Mezzotint Steel Engravings. We have run this risk, 
determined to make the Magazine inferior to none of its kind in the United 
States, even though we should pay the deficiency from our own private funds ; 
since every one admits that, once having reached a high position, nothing 
would be easier than to maintain it. 

Yet all these improvements have been accomplished without the addition of 
a single cent to the subscription price. Our desire is to place the Magazine 
within the reach of every North Carolinian. But we must not convert our 
Salutatory into an advertisement ; especially since our prospectus has been so 
long before you. The increased size of the Magazine was adopted with an 
especial reference to admitting all those purely University writings which it 
has been our misfortune so long to lose completely, merely for the want of 
some medium of publication. The numerous political sheets in the State could 
hardly be expected to insert them in their columns, both because of their length, 
and because they were of no interest to them ; and the literary ones alas ! have 
been no where to be found. 

We shall be grateful for all contributions from any source whatever, but es- 
pecially so, from those connected with the University, either in the capacity of 
matriculates, trustees, or, simply as friends. It is well known that the object 
of a College Magazine is to encourage literature among the students ; but Col- 
lege is unable to sustain the Magazine, so we must needs strive to please others 
besides our student-friends. But how can we please our fellow students better, 
or conduce more to their improvement, than by adding tone and dignity to our 
periodical, by the insertion of longer and abler pieces than can be expected 
from the College muse. We have ample room for all College contributions, 
and would most earnestly exhort our friends to use the Magazine for their im- 

We would most gladly have you bear this fact in mind — that our object is 
not money, but improvement — improvement to the University, to the State, 
and to ourselves. Ours is a "University of North Carolina" Magazine, and 
it shall be our ambition to disseminate a literary taste as widely as possible 

1859.] Editors' Talk. 49 

among the students. We are not so elated with our elevation to the " Editorial 
Chai?," as to aspire to a rivalship with many other Magazines of our country ; 
hut we only hope to aid in the development of the intellectual resources of our 
State. If circumstances much to be deplored have placed us in the van of 
literary progress in North Carolina, surely it is no presumption in us to stand 
there. It is our candid belief that were the Magazine conducted on right 
principles, it would be productive of more good to the State than any other, 
however much its superior in point of literary excellence. It is at College that 
the young men of the State imbibe their first notions of literature ; it is here 
that they lay aside the child and put on the man, and if we succeed in inspir- 
ing into newly-donned manhood a ta3te for literature— if we cause one student 
to devote himself to the cultivation of letters in North Carolina, our end is ac- 
complished, our brightest dreams are realized ; and with hearts swelling with 
the noble joy of having benfi'tted our species, we shall lay aside our gowns 

We have determined to offer, for the encouragement of literary emulation 
among the students, a prize of thirty dollars for the best article, on any sub- 
ject, contributed to the Magazine during the year ; also, one of twenty for the 
next best. The particulars of the plan will be specified in our next number. 


Reader, I wouldn't have you to imagine for a moment that I intend to gra- 
tify your curiosity by writing ffeis — no such thing; I do it to amuse myself 
partly, and partly because I have to write it, being the Secretary of " Our 
Club." I would advise you not to read it ; because, by so doing, you will find 
out some of our secrets. But I havn't time to talk to you any longer ; because 
I've got to write down the minutes of our first meeting. 

First, it was decreed that the Secretary should begin his book, by giving an 
accurate description of the members of our "Our Club." Mr. Quizzem is the 
fattest man in the crowd, so I shall begin with him — we call him Quiz, for short- 
Quiz is an Alabamian, fat and saucy, fond of Champagne and oysters, hating 
Whiskey, and having a most supreme contempt for work of all kinds. He's 
very fond of a joke, and prides himself on being the wit of the crowd. He can 
tell anecdotes capitally, has a great many at command, and is fond of telling 
them when he has a bottle of wine by his side and a pipe in his mouth. I shall 
pay him the compliment of saying that he is a whole-souled man, hates to hurt 
anybody's feelings, but a regular devil when once aroused. 

Tom Sturdy is next to Quiz in size, but he is not fat. He is as solid as a 
boiled ham, with muscles like ropes. He never minces his words, but says ex- 
actly what he thinks, regardless of consequences. Tom is no coward, as every 
one knows ; and as his ways have got him in more than one scrape, so his fists 
have got him out of them triumphantly. Sturdy is very fond of ladies' com- 
pany ; and is ready to love, fight for, and flatter every pretty girl he sees. He 


50 Editors' Table. [August 

thinks it is as pleasant to flatter a lady, as to knock down a man ; and is always 
willing to do either. But he is no heartless creature — Tom can never be accus- 
ed of that. He thinks admiration different from love ; and says that no sensi- 
ble woman would call an admirer, a lover. 

Sam Soaring comes next in the catalogue. He is the poet of the Club. Quiet 
and retiring among strangers, no man in our crowd can entertain a friend bet- 
ter than he ; no one has command of sweeter words or a sweeter voice ; and 
when he is deeply interested in any subject, I defy any one to be more inter- 
esting. Sam is by no means a sot, but he occasionally indulges in wine ; and 
then his wit is as sparkling as the Champagne he drinks. 

Tim Trembler is a very fair specimen of the cautious part of humanity. 
Sturdy sometimes calls him Mr. Fabiosus — alluding, I suppose, to the old Ro- 
man. Tim is naturally fond of drink, but his caution prevents him from being 
a drunkard ; indeed, his oldest friends never remember having seen him tipsy, 
when the least danger could accrue from it. Tim is withal a great braggart, 
but is always wanting in time of action. 

Ben Short is the pet of " Our Club." He is a little fellow, very talkative, 
and is forever perched on somebody's knee. He is good looking, besides ; 
and this circumstance undoubtedly contributes to his popularity with us. 

I have now described all the members of " Our Club ;" but some of you may 
say, What is your name, Mr. Secretary ? I will reply in the old proverb : 
" Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies." I intend to keep profoundly 
dark as to my name, and my whereabouts. I will tell this much, however : 
the object of "Our Club," is to discuss matters and things generally, never 
attend to our own business, and talk about whom we please. I shall pass over 
our first meeting, since it was for the purpose of organizing ; and pitch in me- 
dias res, or rather, into our second meeting. The conversation was opened by 
Short, who bursted into the room, ran through the crowd, and jumped on 
Quiz's knee, and remarked — 

" Well, Quiz, I have just seen Tom Sturdy's sweetheart ; and an ugly spe- 
cimen of humanity she is." 

" My sweetheart ?" quoth Tom. "As well say that the Man in the Moon 
is in love with a fence-rail." 

"Whom are you railing at?" shouted Quiz, nudging Ben in the short ribs. 

"Ridiculous, Quiz," said Ben. "You are forever making puns, that the 
neediest wit in Christendom would be ashamed to steal." 

"You may take the covering of my pericranium," put in Tim. 

"Hey! Tim, what is that, your hat or your skin?" replied Quiz. "But 
earnestly, Tom, how do you manage to fancy ugly women ?" 

" 'Tis not her ugliness I fancy, but her beauty of mind. She is no common 
woman, and has no ordinary education." 

" An eulogy, by Mr. Sturdy. I really thought you had lost your heart last 

" No sensible man can fall in love with a ball-room belle. I enjoyed the 
speeches far more than the dancing." 

" Intellectual man that you are. Rise, poet, and sing his praises," said Ben. 

" Tom Sturdy needs no praise from me, else would I give it. I, too, was de- 

1859.] Editors' Table. 51 

lighted with the addresses. Mr. McRae sustained his high reputation, and 
Dr. Hooper did excellently. Some of the Seniors, too, did credit to themselves." 

" Encore! encore !" said Quiz ; " I'll bet on Sam Soaring. I can't imagine 
how any of you managed to enjoy any thing in such a crowd. I went to the 
chapel Wednesday morning, fully determined to bear every inconvenience ; 
but I soon changed my mind. I had my "bugs" on, expecting to captivate 
somebody ; but, dreadful to relate, presently some one put a dusty shoe on one 
of my coat-tails. This I tried to endure ; but when another ugly, dusty piece 
of leather pushed itself on my pants, and a huge, freckled hand deposited it- 
self on my shoulder, my philosophy fled — and so did I." 

" AVhere did you go then?" said Ben. 

" I went out in the sunshine, brushed my dusty clothes, and peeped in a 
window at the girls." 

"Romantic youth!" replied Ben. "What a pity you are not appreciated 
in college." 

" 'Tis not my fault." 

" No, indeed ; but your wit is like Tim's courage, always wanting when it's 
wanted," said Sturdy. 

" Stop, Tom, you are too harsh," said Ben. 

" I hate a fool." 

"It's a wonder you don't cut your own throat then," replied Quiz. "But 
let us drown all differences in a glass of Champagne — here's the bottle." 

"0 ! boys, some of the Faculty will see us. Put down the curtain, Tom," 
cried Tim. 

" No danger, dear Trembler. Here's health to you all !" 

"Tim will have a fainting fit directly," interposed Sturdy. 

"It's fit that he should faint," cpioth Quiz. "Come, Sam, give us an im- 
promptu song." 

" I can neither sing nor rhyme, but I'll try : 

The lights are all flashing, 
The glasses are clashing, 

And the Champagne is sparkling bright ; 
And while we are drinking, 
-Away with dull thinking — 

! let us be merry to-night." 

Hurrah for Sam ! Give us another ! I'll empty my glass to that. Where's 
the bottle ? Empty — confound the luck ! 

" Another — give us another stanza, Sam," shouted Ben, his eyes already 
beginning to sparkle. 

" Let's fill up our glasses first," suggested Tom. 

" The bottle is as dry as a salted herring. I move Sam suspend operations 
till we replenish ; I say this, Sam, not because I love poetry less, but Cham- 
pagne more," said Quiz. 

" I'm in favor of not getting any more to-night," whispered Tim. v 

" Tim is right for once," replied Sturdy. " Sober enjoyment is my motto. 
But come, all of you, let's hear what has happened everywhere, and particu- 
larly at the Hill, during vacation. What news have you got, Quiz ?" 

52 Editors' Table. ' [August 

" I thought you kneio I know no news — quit pinching me, Ben — except the 
accidents and incidents of our commencement. I have told you one of them 
already, and I have a score of others, all ready too." 

" Now, Quizzem, an thou lov'st me, cease from puns," said Ben, smiling as 
well at his own wit, as that of Quiz. 

" You may reserve your accidents for another time," said Sturdy, not no- 
ticing the pun. " Now, Tim, open your budget." 

" ! don't make Tim budge yet," said Quiz, imploringly. 

" Quiz, I'd be ashamed of such attempts ; do be serious once in your life." 

" I stand corrected, Tom. Proceed, Tim, with your news." 

" No news have I, except that I enjoyed my vacation. I fell in love, flirted 
with a beauty, got flirted, stuck my fore-finger between my teeth, and came 
back to the Hill." 

" Hurrah for Tim — three times three for his sweetheart," cried the whole 
crowd. Tim seemed immensely delighted, and after the cheering, crossed his 
legs with all the dignity and composure of a hero. 

" Well, that's cheering news," stammered Quiz, catching his breath after 
a hearty roar of laughter, and bursting out afresh. 

" Now, Ben, is your time." 

" Well, I did nothing but hunt and fish, as a general thing ; then, by way 
of a change, I fished and hunted." 

" See Ben blushing, like a maiden fair," said Tim, who delights in high 
sounding words, when there is nothing to scare him. 

"Let him blush — he looks the prettier for it. Sam has a yarn to spin, long 
and full of interest, if we'll make him write it out. So, friend Sam, you must 
regale us at our next meeting" — 

"With a regal feast," interrupted Quiz. 

" And as I have a long tale, too, to tell, I will manage to have it prepared 
before long." 

We are all in favor of that. Blow out the lights — let's leave — hurrah ! 


This valuable little book should be in the hands of every North Carolinian. 
It is well arranged, and affords a vast amount of useful information not con- 
tained in any other publication. Though it is faulty in some respects, yet we 
think it will do much in calling the attention of North Carolinians to the chro- 
nology of their own State. It is neatly printed, well bound, and we heartily 
recommend it to all our readers. For sale by W. L. Pomeroy, Kaleigh, N. C. 

PtEV. Francis L. Hawks, D. D., LL. D.— Dr. Hawks has been elected to the 
chair of History in the University, vacated by the resignation of Prof. Suipp; 
the Doctor, being absent from home, has not yet been heard from. 

1859.] Uditors' Table. 53 


In Commodore Maury's introduction to the eighth edition of his "Sailing Di- 
rections," a large quarto volume of more than 400 pages, recently published 
under the authority of Congress — a work replete with rare information and 
curious speculations on various phenomena of the sea, as well as of the land, 
he indulges in sanguine expectations of the enlargement of our knowledge of 
these phenomena, by a general concert in the various parts of the world in 
meteorological observations, and he goes on to remark : 

"I am assured by the friends of this measure in Europe, that if the United 
States will but do for the extension of our observation to the land, what was 
done by Mr. Webster and Mr. Everett, while Secretaries of State, and by Gov. 
Graham and Mr. Dobbin, while Secretaries of the Navy, for the establishing 
of them (meteorological observations) at sea, the nations and meteorologists of 
Great Britain and the Continent, would meet us as readily again, and join 
hands with us as cordially, as they did at Brussels, (in a conference of scientific 
men) in 1853." 

The above is highly gratifying to us, coming as it does under the seal of office, 
from one of the first scientific men of his own or any other age. It certainly 
speaks well for North Carolina to place Graham and Dobbin, her favorite sons, 
by the side of Webster and Everett, the men of whom Massachusetts has most 
cause to be proud. It seems that at least in the cause of science Massachusetts 
and North Carolina, hand in hand, are taking the lead, and it must be gratify- 
ing to all lovers of useful knowledge, to know that these advances have been 
received with a proper spirit by the savans of Europe. 

But especially to the friends of the University will the above quotation prove 
acceptable; for it shows that the lessons of wisdom which she taught her sons 
have not been forgotten, but in their mature age have ripened into enlarged 
views and liberal sentiments which promise abundant fruits. May the officers 
from other States and graduates of other Universities, remembering the exam- 
ple furnished by Massachusetts and North Carolina, keep the march of science 
upward, and not fall behind the nations of Europe. 


We owe our patrons an apology for not performing our promise to issue the 
Magazine on the first of the month. Circumstances entirely beyond our con- 
trol, or that of the publishers, and incident to the establishment of a new 
office, have been the cause of the delay. Our publishers promise to be punctual 

51 College Record. [August 



As w T e have been honored with a visit from this distingushed Orator, States- 
man and Patriot since the last issue of our Magazine, it would, perhaps, be 
fitting that we should make some notice in our record of an event so flattering 
to the University, and so agreeable to ourselves. For many reasons it would 
be an unprofitable task for us to attempt any thing more than a mere passing 
notice of this so important event in the history of our Alma Mater. First, 
because we feel ourselves unable to say any thing worthy of the subject ; 
secondly, because, if we could, the effort has left in our minds only those few, 
deep traces, which no one of his hearers will ever forget ; and lastly, because 
at this late day, any such account as we could give, would be uninstructive and 
uninteresting to our readers. We have great hopes of seeing this celebrated 
oration in print one of these days. 


It doubtless will seem queer to many that we should avail ourselves of this 
opportunity to lay before our readers an account of Senior Speaking. Our rea- 
son is that the occasion was fraught with much of permanent interest ; that, at 
some future day, it w T ill be pleasing to those who are prudent enough to pre- 
serve their Magazines, to give a backward glance into their college days, and 
see what were the subjects of the last Senior Speeches. The Festival passed 
off very smoothly, and was in every respect complimentary to the graduates. 
We never recollect seeing so interesting a display of fine faces and dresses. 

Below will be found the names of the speakers and their respective sub- 

MONDAY, APRIL 25, 1859. 

I. Our Commerce. 


II. Nor is it only thus, but must be so. 

JAMES PEYTON TAYLOR, of Pittsborough. 

III. Self-Education. 


IV. Our aim is Happiness. 


V. Southern Chivalry. 


VI. Querulousness of the Age. 

JAMES ANDREW MILLER, of Rutherfordton. 

1859.] College Record. 

VII. " thoughts of men accursed! 

Past, and to come, seem best ; tli trigs present, worst." 


VIII. Our Departed Great. 

JAMES PARK COFFIN, of Tennessee. 

IX. "By otir own spirits, ice are deified." 

BERRYMAN GREEN, of Virginia. 

X. Joan of Arc. 

N. COLLIN HUGHES, of New Berne. 

XI. Nature, man's best guide. 


XII. Dr. Kane's Companions. 


XIII. The Age of the Troubadours. 

G. BURGWYN JOHNSTON, of Eden ton. 

XIV. Elements of American Greatness and Glory. 

TIMOTHY WALTON, of Alabama. 


I. The Gifted are the Favored ones of Earth. 


II. Central North Carolina. 

ISAAC ROBERTS, of Carbonton. 
Ill Robespierre. 

HUGH HAGART BIEN, of New Orleans. 

IV. The Hamiltonian System. 


V. Fortune favors the Brave. 


VI. " An honest man's the noblest work of God." 


VII. Rienzi. 


VIII. History. 


IX. The Huguenots. / 


X. Resolution, the Exponent of Laudable Ambition. 


XI. America in the Nineteenth Century. 


86 College Record. [August 

XII. Benedict Arnold. 


XIII. Every Man a debtor to his Profession. 


XIV. Importance of Hind. 


XV. Experiment ; the Life Improvement. 

MILLS LEE EURE, of Gates Co. 


I. Utilitarianism. 


II. The Vocation of the American Teacher. 


III. Sir Walter Raleigh. 


IV. Principle and System, the Conditions of Success. 


V. Lex non Scripta. 


VI. Our Government ; its influence on the Nations of Europe. 


VII. Influence of Liberty on Literature. 


VIII. Ignatius Loyola. 


IX. " This above all, to thine own self be true." 

JOHN SOMERVELL, of Tennessee. 

X. The Necessity of Subordination. 


XI. National Decay. 

FRANK PEGUES LONG, of Tennessee. 

XI. Qualifications of a Statesman. 

AUGUSTUS MOORE FLYTHE, of Northampton Co. 

XII. The Servitude of Popularity. 

WILLIAM JUNIUS ROGERS, of Northampton Co. 
XIV. The Spirit of the Age. 


1859.] College Record, 57 


I. " Unstable as water, tliou slialt not excel." 


II. Life and its Purposes. 

LUCIUS FRIERSON, of Tennessee. 

III. The Imagination; to be cultivated. 


IV. Pleasant Retrospections. 


V. The Press. 


VI. The Satanic School in Literature. 


VII. Man is never contented.- 


VIII. TJie Battle of Saratoga. 

COOPER HUGGINS, of Onslow Co. 

IX. The Chivalric days of Scotland.. 


X. AnthovUs Classical Series. 


XI. The Monuments of Antiquity. 


XII. Defeated Ambition. 


XIII. Marriage and Divorce. 

JOHN THOMAS COOK, of Warrenton. 

XIV. Silent Influence. 


XV. The Dignity of Labor. 

SIMPSON RUSS, of Bladen Co. 


I. Alfred the Great. 

ANDREW DICK LINDSAY, of Greensborough. 

II. The Conservative Elements of the American Future. 


III. Literary Enterprise. ) 

JOHN ALEXANDER SLOAN, of Greensborough. 

58 College Record. [August 

IV. " The truth of History" — what is it f 

Y. The Poet of Man. 

THOMAS LOW WATSON, of Chapel Hill. 

VI. America shall never wear a Crown. 

JOHN WYATT COLE, of Richmond Co. 

VII. To he Great, is to be misunderstood. \ 


VIII. To be Little, is not be understood at all. 


IX. The Monastic System. 


X. Comparative merits of Curricuhim, Colleges. 


XI. Political Economy. 


XII. The Common Sense Man. 

XIIL u The paths of Glory lead but to the Grave." 


XIV. Let Nature and Honor guide you. 


XV. Cultivated Intellect in Public Life. 



1. Anatomy and Physiology. 

Peter B. Bacot, of South Carolina. 

2. The Licentiousness of the Press. 

George Badger Barnes, of Northampton Co. 

3. Character and Influence of the Female Sex. 

James Edward Beaslet, of Plymouth. 

4. The Old Guard of Napoleon. 

Thomas Pastuer Bonneb, of Washington. 

5. Charles II. 

Robert William Cole, of Greensborough. 

6. The Last Indian's Lament : A Poem. 

John Duncan, Jr., of Texas. 

7. Time, the Common Arbitrator. 

Joseph Harris Field, of Mississippi. 

1859.] College Record. 59 

8. The Spirit of (lie Age. 

Thomas Strafford Hill, of Georgia. 

9. " Quisque siise fortunes faber." 

John Baird Lynch, of Virginia. 

10. ' Tis the Man that makes, the Mind. 

William Grates Mebane, of Tennessee. 

11. Vulgar Prejudices against Literature. 

Edward Livingston Riddick, of Gates Co. 

12. True Merit vs. False Pretensions. 

James Lafayette Robbins, of Randolph Co. 

13. Music. 

Joseph Adrian Williams, of Pitt Co. 


WE~are sure that no apology is necessary in presenting our readers with an 
account of the Commencement Exercises, as every one will immediately see 
the propriety of keeping v college record in a more durable form than the 
newspapers afford. 

We must acknowledge our indebtedness to -the Weekly South Carolinian, 
the North Carolina Standard, and the Fayetteville Observer, as well as our 
obligations to Gov. Swain and Prof. Charles Phillips for their courtesy in 
assisting us in compiling this brief sketch of our annual festival. 

The exercises of the week began on Monday night, by a very eloquent and 
forcible sermon from Rev. D. S. Doggett, D. D., an eminent Divine of the 
Methodist Episcopal Church, South. Dr. Doggett makes a very imposing and 
venerable appearance in the pulpit, and speaks directly from the heart — the 
only source of true eloquence. 

The audience was large, and was held in the closest attention for more than 
an hour and a half. This fact is sufficiently demonstrative of the excellence 
of the discussion and of the deep interest felt in the subject, viz : the mission 
of Christianity to seats of learning. The instructions were drawn from Paul's 
visit to Athens. The text was from Acts xvii. 15: "And they that conducted 
Paul brought him to Athens." After a vivid description of Athens, locally, 
intellectually and religiously considered, Dr. Doggett called attention to Paul's 
experience in its Streets, in its Synagogue, in its Agora, and on its Areopa- 
gus. Whence he inferred that the wisdom of the world cannot discover God ; 
that it cannot purify the life ; that the Gospel which Paul preached is worthy 
of universal dissemination, as it is the power of God unto man's salvation ; 
and that it should engage the attention of the most gifted and the best educa- 
ted of our youth. A warm-hearted and direct appeal to the graduates to learn 
the life hidden with Christ in God, of which Paul was so bright a manifesta- 
tion, and to devote themselves to the teaching of it to their fellows, closed this 
excellent discourse. Dr. Doggett's manner, is peculiar and very striking. He 

60 College Record. [August. 

drops his words deliberately into our ears, and his thoughts reach our minds 
in distinct succession ; so that both have their proper effect at ithe moment 
.each is presented. He .congratulated the religious part of the community that 
so many of the class hoped to be preachers. 

Tuesday night, as usual, was given to the Declamation of the Freshman 
(Class. This was animated and well executed. The ladies were particularly 
well pleased with the "pretty Little Fresh." The order was as follows: 

1. Burr and Blennerhasset — Wirt. Henry C. Wall, Richmond Co. 

2. Spartacus to the Roman Envoys in Etruria — Sargent. William M. Fetter, 
Chapel Hill. 

3. The Babe of the Alamo— Anonymous. AureliusC Jones, Texas. 

4. Grateful Patriotism not an Abstraction — Webster. WillianiW. Jones, 

5. Political Conservativism—W. B. Spencer. Thomas E. Webb, Tennessee. 

6. The Destiny of the Human Race — Zachos. Andrew J. Moore, Pitt Co. 

7. The Shunamite— Willis. Wm. C. Jordan, Greenville. 

8. Bernardo del Carpio — Mrs. Hemans. John II. Bass, Georgia. 

9. Defence of Christianity— Phillips, the Irish Orator. Herbert M. Varncr, 

10. The Daughter of Herodius— Mrs. Osgood. Leonidas P. Wheat, Chapel 

Wednesday morning every countenance was beaming with anticipation of 
the rich intellectual feast, which they were sure awaited them from Hon. Dun- 
can K. McRae. Some knowledge of his subject had transpired, which put 
the guessing powers of every one to the test. Here it was that the immense 
superiority of the " Toll Mites" — disciplined at many a clean black board and 
sharpened on many a rough Greek root— was manifest. Many were the con- 
jectures as to how he would treat his subject ; but, alas! the shrewdest genius 
that ever rolled a box to an teffigy or sung a chemical sung to popping Cham- 
pagne stoppers, was totally ,at fault. Mr. McRae surpassed all expectation. 
As he is unwilling to put the Dialectic Society to the trouble of having his ad- 
dress printed in pamphlet form, we have concluded to insert the following im- 
perfect sketch, rather than kt such an event fade from the recollection of col- 
lege posterity : 

" He said that an assembly, like the one before him, composed of intelligent 
fl,nd educated persons, gathered together under the precincts and within the 
sanctum of their own educational establishments ; before which men of learn- 
- ing and of letters were called, from time to time, to speak on topics of general 
interest, literary and others, under circumstances calculated to produce a cor- 
responding desire to excel, afforded a lively image of an assembly of the an- 
cient world, before whom the liveliest productions of the human mind were 
wont to be exhibited. The speaker referred to Macaulay's description of 
Athen's in the days of her splendor and power. 'Of the crowds that assem- 
bled round her porticos to read inscriptions for instruction, who gathered 
around Herodotus as he recited his history, and of those who would gather 
around the wandering minstrel in the market place.' 

1859.] College Record. 61 

Before the art of printing was discovered, oral teaching was the only means 
of instruction, and the mind of men demanding to he taught, the assemblies 
were frequent. With us, they are occasional ; thej r are seasons of festivity and 
relaxation from the cares of life. To the ancient world, it was an essential 
feature of their organization. Everything should he done that would give 
dignity and interest to these occasions. Their men of character and experience 
should be invited. All minds, imbued with a sense of the public good, should 
he willing to contribute, that the feast might be varied and luxuriant. Here 
it is science is woed from her solitary cell. The joyous countenance of an in- 
telligent assembly is one of the most inspiring influences of a living feast. The 
welcome sound of applause, the electric communication of thought, feeling and 
sentiment, from heart to heart, the strong sympathies and affections enkindled 
by these gatherings, give to these places early success, and disseminate from 
them a wide-spread influence. He was happy to congratulate them on the 
number and character of the guests that have come up to their feast ; the up- 
right statesman, the distinguished patriot, who had devoted a long life of ser- 
vice to his country, with usefulness to her and honor to himself, and now 
fills the chief place of honor ; the President, attended by an illustrious mem- 
ber of his Cabinet, a native Carolinian, an alumnus of this institution, were 
now en route to reach this place. They have been delayed by the natural, 
well-meant hospitalities at a neighboring place, but they will arrive in time 
to do honor to some portion of your feast. [Great applause.] Eminent ex- 
pounders of the laws, worthy of their profession, are lending their influ- 
ence ; a bright array of beaming beauty — and what land can boast an array 
more bright, more beaming ? — are here, not only by common consent, but \>y 
universal desire, and occupy a large space in our midst. It was for the young 
gentlemen before him a glorious holiday, and with all his heart he would bid 
them embrace and enjoy it. The speaker drew a beautiful picture of the 
emotions natural to those before him, who were, he said, in the very flush of 
youth, Behind in the past, there was but a day; in the future, they beheld 
no limits to their wishes. They had not yet considered what was self-inde- 
pendence and self-support. Full of bright waking dreams, they discerned no 
dim shadows in the distance ; rocked in the cradle of their desires, and flatter- 
ed with their powers, like unconscious infants they sleep and smile in a garden 
of rich fancies, full of flowers and fruits. High hope stands out before them, 
encircling the ground with immortality. 

Who should disturb this vision in the slumber of j r outh ? Why not permit 
them to sleep on till necessity awakened them to the reality? But would this 
be the part of justice? It was the part of friendly admonition to warn them 
to get ready their arms, and not to think of life as if they were indissolubly 
bound to its pleasures, and it would never cease. They were not to confine 
their visions to a golden sun, a clear sky, a stretched out sea in its calm, a 
plain of velveted green, but they were to cast their eye occasionally to the 
dark mountains, the crags upon which their feet might stumble. A simple 
man believeth every word, but a prudent man lookcth well to his going. They 
were not to imagine life a series of enjoyments. Obstacles would oppose them 
at every step. Vigor, spirit and determination Would be required to surmount 

02 College Record. [August 

those obstacles. It was for the realities and reverses of life that they should 
prepare. It -was within those walls, surrounded by their teachers, they should 
submit to discipline, and learn those lessons which would fit them to perform 
their duties in the world. Self-energy, self-discipline, self-control, obedience 
to rightful authority, these constituted the elements of success, and fit the 
soldier to become the commander. 

The speaker alluded to the successful effort of Mr. Gaskin to weaken the 
force of the Shaksperian saying, " that there is a tide in the affairs of men 
leading on to fortune," by establishing in its place, " that every man is the au- 
thor of his own fortune, happiness or misery." Occasionally it might be that 
an indolent man rises to a lofty height. But those cases were very rare, and 
for one that attained a tolerable elevation, thousands and thousands there were, 
who creep in darkness and never have, never will, mark their career by any 
acts of public usefulness. Look abroad and find a man who has concentrated 
his mind upon one object, applying himself with diligence, and he would show 
them some measure of success. A man shall conquer the world to his will by 
the sweat of his brow. Calm, patient, and laborious application will do the 
work, and no one need be disheartened who is possessed of a reasonable mind. 
Labor, study, discipline will enlarge his apprehension, will exalt his intellec- 
tual faculties, and place him upon such an elevation that the eye of genius 
will not penetrate further than his own. The' speaker then referred to the 
men of olden times, who had made for themselves a name by laborious appli- 
cation in youth. He instanced Demosthenes, Homer, Michael xingelo, Luther, 
Napoleon, Burke, Fox. 

The speaker contended that it was not necessary to be a genius, in order to 
be successful. The experience of the world had proved that invention and 
discovery in art and science had always arisen from those only who were la- 
borious students. The speaker spoke eloquently of Washington as a man of 
labor and method, and who had made the model statesman, the excellent Gov- 
ernor. More and more are we becoming, from day to day, alive to his worth, 
and the women of America would ere long entitle their sons to the last 
resting jdace of the Father of his country. The speaker called upon the young 
men to cherish the Union of the States, to preserve, if possible, this magnifi- 
cent confederacy, of which we were members. Let other nations who were 
too feeble drift upon our shores ; if there be any fruit hanging upon our walls, 
let it fall whon sufficiently ripe into our lap, but let us not stretch the hand 
over the wall to steal. Let us keep on our course until hundreds, millions of 
people, gather under the folds of a common flag. But let us once be disjointed, 
and where are the new joints to unite them again. Where are Oregon, Wash- 
ington, California, New Mexico, Dacotah, Nebraska, those golden regions and 
rocky mountains, where are they to go ? Where the monster North-west, like 
a majestic maiden that stands on the bands of the river holding in her hand 
the cornucopia that pours wealth in upon the people, Avhere is she to go ? 
What will there be of intellect, of grandeur, strength, endurance, in the new 
confederacy, that the old does not possess ? We have given but a few ab- 
stracts from the very full notes we have of this most eloquent address. It was 
listened to throughout with undivided attention. As the speaker became ab- 

1859.] College Record, 63 

sorbed in his subject, the professional for a moment overcame him, and "Gen- 
tlemen of the Jury" escaping his lips, at once drew forth bursts of applause, 
and peals of merry laughter. 

The speaker., looking at the number of sage counsellors before him, said, I 
see so many judges before me, and such good judges, too, that they were well 
calculated to inspire the idea, and (looking at the ladies) such a fair jury 
that I wonder I don't think so still. The applause with which this sally was 
greeted prevented the speaker from proceeding for some time." 

Thus ended an address of which the University may well be proud. 

As we are crowded for space, we defer publishing more of the Commence- 
ment Exercises in this number. In the September number shall appear a 
finished record of the rest of the exercises, including the speeches of the Presi- 
dent and a synopsis of the other speeches. We are induced to adopt this 
course, because of the permanent interest which is attached to, perhaps, the 
most noted commencement on record. 


At a meeting of the Philanthropic Society of the University of North Caro- 
lina, held on Friday, March 25th, 1859, the decease of our fellow-member, 
Mr. William Plummer, of Warrenton, having been announced, on motion, a 
committee was appointed to draft a preamble and resolutions appropriate to 
the mournful event, who having met, reported the following, which were 
adopted : 

Whereas, In the dispensation of an inscrutable Providence, it has pleased 
the all-wise Governor of the Universe, to cut off by the hand of death an es- 
teemed fellow-member ; therefore, be it 

Resolved, That while we bow in humble submission to the decree of Him 
who " doeth all things well," yet we cannot but deplore the loss of one, who, 
in all the varied relations of life, was ever distinguished by an integrity of 
character, purity of heart, and exemplary Christian virtues, which we should 
make our highest endeavor to study and imitate. 

Resolved, That in his loss, our Society has been deprived of an honored 
member, the community in which he resided of an upright and useful citizen, 
and the church of which he was a consistent member of one its brightest or- 

Resolved, That while we would not intrude on the sacredness of their grief, 
yet we desire to tender to his bereaved family and relatives, our heart-felt sym- 
pathy in this their hour of deep affliction, and recommend to them the conso- 
lation derived from the belief, that he has been translated to a brighter and 
happier state of existence beyond the grave. 

Resolved, That a copy of these resolutions be sent to the family of the deceased, 
and also to the University Magazine, Warrenton News, and Raleigh Register 
and Standard, with a request for publication. 

JOHN T. COOK, > ^ 

64 College Record. 

Dialectic Hall, May lGth, 1859. 

It is with no ordinary feelings of sorrow that the Dialectic society has heard 
of the recent, sudden and painful death of our late fellow-member, Gideon 
J. Pillow, Jr., of Columbia, Tennessee. Surely we now have cause to mourn. 
When one of our number is called from his earthly sphere of action, whose 
locks have been whitened by the snows of many winters — whose brow bears 
the marks of many a hard fought battle — we are apt to look upon the event as 
quite an ordinary occurrence. But when we are called upon to drop a tear 
over the grave of one cut down in the full strength of early manhood, who has 
so recently left our body, looking forward to a long life of usefulness and hon- 
or, how sad and painful is the duty. He whose death we now lament, was a 
member of the class of 1854^'55, and left us just four years ago, bearing with him 
the Bachelor's degree from this University, together with a certificate of good 
morals and an high order of intellect from our Society. But before he has 
had time to prove to the world that he merited the college honors conferred 
upon him so lavishly, he has been cut down without a moment's warning, and 
when least suspecting any danger. Therefore, 

Whereas, The Dialectic Society has been in so melancholy a manner de- 
prived of one whom we delighted to honor while among us, 

Resolved, That while we deeply deplore the untimely accident which brought 
our late fellow-member to a watery grave, we bow with reverence and submis- 
sion to the will of the Great Being who inflicts this heavy blow. 

Resolved, That while we crave the privilege of sympathizing with his afflic- 
ted family, as this flood of sorrow rolls so heavily over them, like the dark 
waves which sing a mournful requium over his precious remains, we would 
point them to that sweet promise — " Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth." 

Resolved, That a copy of these resolutions be forwarded to the parents and 
family of the deceased, and also to the Nashville and Columbia (Tenn.) pa- 
pers, and the University Magazine, with the request for publication. 

JAS. H. POLK, [ 2 

JAS. P. COFFIN, ) ? 







aioi. 0. September, 1850. fto. i 



(Concluded from the August Number.') I 

Had the bestowment of me upon the printer been fulfilled, the whole 
train of circumstances and events ensuing upon it must of course have 
been different from the course into which the disposition by Dr. Wither- 
spoon gave a direction. The time came when the conclusion was an- 
nounced to me, and that the stage was forthwith to carry me to Prince- 
ton. It was in the spring of 1787, and I was fourteen years of > age. A 
few hours brought me to the place, but they were filled with a profusion 
of thoughts, as to the immediate and more distant prospects that were 
now opening before me. The course of trial already past, of the species 
of employment before me, was of such a nature as not to harrass me with 
distrust, and though at an age when we may be supposed to feel but little 
concern about the subsequent years, still distant, when the arrival at man- 
hood will call upon us to act for ourselves, my anticipations then extended 
to them. The tender premonitions which my mother had sometimes 
poured into my bosom, while the tears flowed down her cheeks, she would 
cast her eye forward, and endeavor to impress me with the dreadful un- 
certainty of the course I might choose, and the destiny that awaited me 
in the world, had not been wholly lost upon me. I had long been idle, 
and in the habit of looking for nothing but pastime, but this occasioned 
no regrets, and I looked forward to assiduous application as the certain 
and proper consequence of the change. Upon this my purpose was fixed, 
nor was a doubt felt that it was to be instantly and constantly realized. 
On arriving at Princeton, I went and offered myself to Br. Smith for 

66 Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. [September 

examination, and being told that it would be proper for me to see Dr. 
Witherspoon, I went to him at Tuscalan, a mile in the country. He sub- 
jected me to trial on one or two sentences in Mair's Introduction, and 
then said that I must enter the senior class in the grammar-school. This 
was a mortifying disappointment to me, for I had counted on joining the 
freshman class in college. I did not realize the effects which a long 
absence from studies had produced, and when called on to make Latin, 
rushed upon it as though I had just left it off. I instantly experienced 
the consequence, in the tardiness of my recollection, and the blunders ,1 
committed. I told the Doctor I hoped soon to renew my attainments, 
which had been much impaired by long intermission, and that if allowed 
to enter the freshman class, I should prove able, by a close application, to 
take standing with it. He replied that even if I could, it would be under 
so great disadvantages that it was by no means advisable ; that I was 
young, and that he wished me to have every opportunity of being a good 
scholar. He said that by taking a stand upon entire equality with my 
classmates, I should, by a sense of strength, go on with pleasure in the 
prosecution of my education, instead of being disheartened by difficulties, 
and liable to have the standard of my feelings lowered, and of becoming 
reconciled to inferiority, by resorting to the reflection that I ought to be 
excused on account of my disadvantages. The Doctor was unquestion- 
ably right, for though my feelings suffered mortification at the moment, I 
never doubted afterwards of the solid benefits resulting from his deter- 
mination. As it was, I was graduated under nineteen years of age. Of 
what importance was it to finish an education sooner ? And even had my 
years been such at the time, as to have brought on a completion of my 
collegiate course at one, two, or three and twenty, instead of nineteen, 
the consequences ,of laying a substantial foundation, of growing into 
proper confidence and decision of character, by .habitual success through 
every occurring difficulty, and the greater maturity of faculties by the 
delay, would have been amply sufficient to recommend the retrocession of 
a year at the commencement of the course. 

In the autumn of 1787 my class became freshman in college, and at 
the end of four years afterwards we were graduated. 

A residence of four years and a half at that time of life, may well be 
supposed among the most interesting of all that I have ever passed. It 
is usual for men liberally educated to remark, though certainly it is not 
without exception, that the collegiate part of life is often an opportunity 
of experimental comparison, more happy than any other at least of equal 
length. As it happened with me, the impression is confirmatory of the 
truth of the remark. It was not, however, without deduction in ample 
sufficiency to do credit to another conclusion which men have been apt to 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. 67 

pronounce when life is drawing to a close, that when the whole with all 
its diversity of coloring, is looked at with a retroverted eye, it is ques- 
tionable whether the enjoyment or the suffering has predominated. 

When a concurrence is here expressed in the opinion that the years of 
a collegiate life are among the happiest we ever enjoy, an explanation 
seems necessary to prevent mistakes of most pernicious tendency. What- 
ever may have been the experience of others, my own tells me that if any 
instances occurred, and my recollections sadly remind me there were some 
in which I sought after enjoyment in violations of the laws, it was not to 
these that I have ever held myself indebted for that portion of time which 
was to be credited as happy. If there was any pleasure in the moments 
^clandestine acts of mischief, it was so mixed in my bosom with the 
agitations of apprehended discovery, and dread of the consequences dart- 
ing across my mind, that I should be far from recommending it on the 
score of enjoyment. But in all such cases, and I most heartily thank 
the guardian Providence that was over me that they were not very nu- 
merous, as soon as they were over, the gloomy cloud which they brought 
upon my feelings, and which they kept hovering around me for many 
days, was enough to decide most unequivocally that much was to be set 
down on the page, not of profit but loss. Things of this kind which I 
did during the four years of college residence, were happily "few and 
far between," so that the effects produced in each instance in tormenting 
me, had some opportunity of fading out of my recollection, before another 
could act with any temptation upon me. But the miseries more or less, 
which in compliance with solicitation, I sometimes consented to inflict 
upon myself, were only a portion of the consequent suffering. They have 
never returned upon me but with pain, and always to beget most sincere 
wishes that they had never happened. Then with the sensations from 
which they have sprung, have been their unfailing retribution, when they 
have been resuscitated in my remembrance. 

Undoubtedly it were well if all who have lived in colleges were simi- 
larly affected by similar causes. We have occasion to hear persons re- 
verting with no small amusement, if not with delight to the disorders 
committed by them while students of college. It is true, there are sports 
of a description to be recollected and related without regret for any ill in 
their nature or their consequences. But every act at variance with the 
laws or the regular business of a body of youth assembled for education ; 
especially such violations as spring from a spirit of insubordination, op- 
position, or ill will to instructors; all schemes of mischief by night or by 
day that have for their object to produce tumult, disrespect towards the 
persons or the authority of teachers, or to dissolve energy in the prosecu- 
tion of business by diffusing levity, or contempt through the transactions 

68 Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. [September 

of it, can never be remembered by a man of correct feeling without com- 
punction and chagrin. And if these be the sentiments excited in the 
bosom, the feats in which they were exhibited must drive out all the 
pleasure that can be supposed to proceed from the renovation in our 
bosoms of the lawless and pernicious hilarity which was once permitted to 
revel in our early years, at the expense of all that was valuable in the 
habits, dispositions and attainments of our primitive education. 

I have sometimes seen persons advanced in life, manifest no hesitation 
in recounting by the hour the disorders of their college life, in the pres- 
ence of youth, and even of their own sons, who were themselves students 
at the time, and passing a vacation at home, or incidentally in company 
with them at the very site of the college, or perhaps some other place. 
The manner, the loud laugh, the arch and contemptuous jeer at the in- 
structors upon whom, their tricks, if not their gross and shameful outrages, 
had been directed, all acted as a charm upon the thoughtless being in 
whose hearing they were recited with so much glee, and he would return 
into the college, charged with a spirit of mischief, and with a disposition 
to beard the faculty, or his tutor at least, up to the very brim. What 
consequence is so likely to be heard of next, as that the young man has be- 
come a bad member of his community, that he is remarkable for idleness and 
dissipation, that his time is passed in furtive acts of disturbance, noise, 
interruption of others, sallying out in the night upon excursions of intem- 
perance, debauch, and such heroic deeds of irregularity as will serve to 
fill up hours of transport in the recollection, to the delight of the company 
around him in future years. But these are not all the consequences of 
which he may expect to hear. The most probable result is, that the youth 
may present himself at the door of his parents, to stun their ears with 
the intelligence that he has been ejected from the place of his education 
upon one or more charges of ill behaviour, so violent as at once to make 
it impossible for him to be retained any longer in the college, or so incor- 
rigibly persevering that all attempts to reclaim and save had been ex- 
hausted upon him in vain. Then commences another process no less 
dangerous to principle, if it can be made successful. It consists in pre- 
senting the picture of the wrongs, oppressions and prejudices of those 
with whom he had to deal, in such coloring and form, as to win upon 
the affection to which he appeals, turn over the ignominy of the case to 
the authors of this foul treatment, and thus be initiated in the methods 
of commencing with ill, and triumphing by address. It is infinitely better 
never to speak of the disorders of a college life, whether once committed 
by ourselves, or reported by others, but with the most decided disappro- 
bation. This is preferable in all society, but especially in that of the 
young. Let such disorders never hope to find coitntenance or palliation 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. 69 

with those who wish all the guaranty possible to the prospects of their 
children, or to the efficacy of good education in the country. Too many 
are apt to indulge the weak imagination, that to expect or insist that a 
youth shall refrain from disorderly or rakish practices, would be to make him 
miserable. The better method is to impress him with a conviction, and 
rationally and affectionately to make it, as far as we can, the true and in- 
ternal result of every experience, that every escape from temptations of 
this nature is to be estimated as an escape from the miseries inseparable 
from a corruption of the heart and degeneracy of habit. 

Nor let it be thought, that when a youth strays from a regular deport- 
ment, he is to have sentence harshly pronounced upon him as though his 
case were highly penal. The difference is wide between displacency on 
our part in their extravagances, and an imputation of total abandonment. 
But through the whole range of this interval, while we are confining our- 
selves within it, we may still feel a portentous gravity towards their follies, 
show earnestness in the connection of their mistakes, frown upon 
their excesses, and pronounce with severity upon their transgressions. In 
doing all these pertinently, we need never be afraid that we arc detracting 
from their enjoyments by withholding them from immoralities, but for 
our encouragement feel most confidently assured that just in proportion 
as we can become successful, we are building up and establishing their 
true instant as well as permanent happiness. 

I have been led through these reflections by a recurrence to the events 
of my collegiate course. Their importance to the young, to parents, and 
to society, it is hoped may apologize for their protraction. Through the 
whole of that period of my life, my habits were marked with diligence-, 
punctuality, and good will to my teachers, and the habitual satisfaction, 
I believe I may say enjoyment, which is the natural conseqence of these. 
To this an exception must be made in an event, some circumstances of 
which it may not be amiss to relate. Toward the latter part of the time 
that I lived in college, it became customary for the steward to furnish a 
milk diet alternately, with coffee at supper. At length it was observed 
that our supper table was served with bread and milk only, and it came to 
be understood as a rule finally adopted that nothing else was in future to 
be expected. Numbers were dissatisfied, and the discontent soon spread 
until it was supposed universal. This was signified to the steward, but it 
produced no alteration. The feeling grew to a higher pitch, and it was 
resolved that measures must be taken to obtain redress, as we thought 
proper to call it. The method seemed to us moderate enough, for it con- 
sisted in nothing more than entering the dining room in the utmost order, 
in the usual manner, taking our scats regularly, and in forbearing to touch 
the food. This we continued to do for some two or three davs, at the 

70 Autobiography of Br. Caldwell. [September 

supper hour. We begun at length to grow tired of it, and as it seemed like- 
ly to continue, the students became violent, and when the door was open- 
ed for admission, threw in a volley of stones, which, as the tables being 
long, stood with their ends towards the door, raked them, as mariners 
would say, fore and aft. The whole, as is obvious, was a foolish piece of 
business, but the last was most unwarrantable, and ought to have been too 
shocking to be perpetrated except by a vulgar mob. Certainly it was un- 
worthy of a society of young gentlemen of the first order, as we professed 
to be. Could we all have been transferred back to the grammar-school, 
there would have been no perplexity in selecting a penalty fitted to the 
nature of the act. But under the system received in colleges, we had 
doubtless made good our claim to the credit of posing the Faculty as to 
the method of treatment best adapted to the emergency. To give way 
before violence and outrage, especially with combination, was not to be 
entertained for a moment. The difference between coffee and milk was a 
trifle in comparison with the consequences to the government of the insti- 
tution. We were told that Dr. Smith would personally attend at the 
table with us in the evening, to take his supper with us, and observe the 
quality of the milk, against which complaints had been raised. This was 
a new thing, and as we certainly had a high respect for his person and 
character, it was to be tried whether this would not be enough to bring us 
back to propriety. The experiment failed, for, while the vice-president 
and tutors took their meal, the students touched nothing. 

I find, however, that in reciting these pitiful details, I am engaged in 
matters that may well be supposed to become sickening to the reader, as 
they do once more to myself, and as they always have done whenever they 
recurred. And yet I have known many an insurrection raised in a college, 
the merits of which were not more respectable than this. The following 
day, it appeared that our offences were felt to have risen to such a height, 
that the Faculty could not reconcile themselves to the ordinary transac- 
tion of business with us, and our recitations were broken off until the or- 
der of college could be restored, and respect to the authority and laws 
re-established. The general feeling now showed itself agitated and tumul- 
tuary and, as is usual in such cases, stories began to be circulated, either 
totally groundless, or distorted into provoking shapes from some little fact 
or expression wholly indifferent in its nature which might have actually 
occurred, but all ingeniously and strangely calculated to excite the reign- 
ing resentment especially against the steward. And now we continued to 
be tossed for sometime in a manner to most of us more and more distress- 
ing, while others evidently exulted in the pretext it furnished them for 
every species of disorder, and the protection from punishment, under the 
pica that the best students of the college were involved alike with them- 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. 71 

selves. It was not very long before that which the wisdom of the Faculty 
had hoped and anticipated, really happened. Most of us began really to 
wish to find out some mode of extricating ourselves from the perplexity 
which continually grew more painful and embarrassing. This was prob- 
ably soon understood by Dr. Smith, and many of us rejoiced when we 
were told that he would be willing to see a few of us in his study. A 
number were speedily selected, and I happened to be one. We presented 
ourselves before him, and he spoke to us at once with gentleness and 
a dignified reserve. He asked if the students were prepared to come to 
an understanding with the Faculty upon any terms which could be con- 
sistent with the re-establishment of authority and the government of the 
college ? I well remember the shameful manner in which some of us 
met this inquiry. And I among the rest assumed to talk swellingly, and 
to endeavor to show with what wrongs the students had been provoked, 
particularly by the steward. But I have done with the narrative, when 
it is further said, that we took care not to leave the Doctor without ac- 
cepting the assurance he gave, which was that if we were all prepared to 
submit to the laws of college, and return to order, it would be acceded to 
on the part of the Faculty, and the business of the classes might imme- 
diately re-commence, without further notice of any thing which had been 
done. It was a grace on the part of the Faculty, which some of us were 
very far from having a right to expect. For my own part, without any 
disposition at this moment to extenuate any absurdity in which I was im- 
plicated while that shameful behaviour was going on, I was certainly not 
forward in participating in the disorder or promoting it. It is enough for 
me, and ever has been, when the remembrance has haunted me, to think 
of the bold and flippant airs which I assumed in that interview with 
Doctor Smith. To these I was very much prompted by my standing 
before him as a representative of the students; for as to myself, my feel- 
ings and conduct were habitually respectful, benevolent and ingenuous. 
But the plea with which I then sustained myself has never since that 
period been able to mitigate the bitterness of my mortification, or prevent 
the ardent wish that my conduct on that occasion could be merged in a 
complete and perpetual forgetfulness. 

I have already related some incidents from which I narrowly escaped 
with life. Another of this nature happened, while I was a student of 
college. It was usual for us to resort on summer evenings to a particular 
spot in a small stream about a mile distant, where the water was deeper 
than common, to amuse ourselves in bathing. A sort of raft had been 
constructed by nailing planks to cross pieces of timber of no great size, 
so that a surface of plank was made on both sides of the pieces. It was 
not very buoyant, and would scarcely bear the weight of one individual 

12 Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. [September 

without sinking under him. The sport consisted in hanging around it by 
the hands, thrusting it about, and turning it over in the water. Several 
were engaged in this manner, and the amusement became so inviting to 
me, that though but just beginning to swim, I felt persuaded it would not 
be difficult to keep myself above the water by means of the raft. I 
watched my opportunity and reached it, but no sooner was this effected 
• than it was turned into a vertical position by the rest, and the next 
moment came down and covered me as under a trap. I was instantly 
drowning, and again began to think myself wholly lost. Happily, one of 
the company perceiving that I was gone and no more made any appear- 
ance, pushed away the raft from above me, observed where the air made 
its appearance that was escaping from my lungs as they filled with water. 
Being well grown and strong, and I but small and light, he seized my 
arm and bore me to the shore. 

Rescued once more from those dying agonies, I ought to have been 
filled with gratitude for the mercy which had spared and preserved me. 
But these feelings had at the time but little place in my bosom. Through 
the earlier part of my residence in college, religion found scarcely any 
admittance into my heart. It appeared to be a subject of which I had be- 
come exceedingly thoughtless. The studies to which I was daily called, 
the amusements of athletic exercises, of walking through the fields and 
into the country, the pleasures of growing knowledge, the occupation of 
castle-building, to which my imagination was much addicted, the gratifi- 
cations of success in my recitations, interspersed with occasional failures, 
calculated to mortify and vex me, the pleasures which I took care gener- 
ally to secure, of success in the public examinations, the buoyancy of 
spirits which immediately followed, seeming almost to lift me up from the 
earth, from a sense of release from every restricting tie of business, and 
the opening of a vacation of some weeks' continuance in unlimited freedom, 
constituted altogether a series of occupations that left no time or disposi- 
tion to think of Grod, the giver of all my blessings, of the sinfulness of 
my heart, the uncertainty of life, or the prospects and destinies of eternity. 

But I was not left to proceed uninterruptedly under this engrossing in- 
fluence of the world. In the full enjoyment of health, I attended break- 
fast one morning as usual in the steward's hall. It was customary to sup- 
ply our table with buck-wheat cakes, which being light, well made, and 
bespread liberally with butter, were counted by many of us, at least, 
among our luxuries. I had heard it suggested a little before, that those 
cakes were prepared upon extensive copper surfaces, for the purpose of 
greater expedition. No attention, however, had been paid to the report. 
It was heard as an idle story, which some might propagate to discredit our 
fare. After having eaten about half a breakfast, my eye was caught with 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell, 73 

what I thought a pretty lively appearance of greenness upon the cakes, of 
which I had been freely participating. A sudden horror thrilled through 
my whole system. In a moment a full conviction seized upon me that I 
was poisoned, and that I was beginning to feel the fatal consequences. I 
rose almost tottering from the table, asked permission to retire, and from 
that instant through the space of several weeks, considered myself as has- 
tening speedily to the grave. Never did an unhappy being continue more 
harrassed and agitated from day to day with symptoms of dissolving 
strength and a rapid decline. I sometimes suspected, for I wished to think 
that I was under mistaken apprehensions of having received poison with 
my food. But though it did not fail to occur that others ought to have 
been affected similarly to myself, it was impossible with all the efforts of 
which I was then capable, to shake off the impressions that haunted me, 
that various feelings to which I was subject, indicated a hastening disso- 
lution. A dismal melancholy brooded over my mind, as a dark and low- 
ering cloud. My whole aspect and manners must have soon appeared al- 
tered to others, though I had an extreme reluctance to let my situation be 
known, and strove much at first to carry a countenance of cheerfulness, 
for which I was usually rather remarkable. My spirits were depressed. 
The world grew to be a matter of indifference, or rather unpleasant repul- 
. sion. I could think no more of it as having interests for me. I invol- 
untarily retired from intercourse, and courted solitude, that I might be free 
to indulge in the gloomy train of reflections that kept me miserable. I 
often prayed that I might be prepared for death, but derived no satisfac- 
tion from it, for I seemed to be sunk down and lost to all the capacities of 
happiness or hope. 

It is probable that others observed and distinctly noted the change that 
had passed upon me, long before I suspected them to know or think any 
thing respecting it. It appeared as if I was shut up within myself, and 
had ceased to know aught that was passing around me. There was reason 
to think, as I learned afterwards, that I was under religious conviction, 
and the delicacy with which they acted towards me on this account, pre- 
vented me from discovering anything said or thought respecting me. I 
came, therefore, to be left to the solitude which was at once my wish and 
my torment. It is not to be doubted, that had some discreet Christian 
contrived to fall in with me, and engage affectionately in conversation on 
religion, until he could have learned something respecting the peculiarity 
of my situation, I might have been taken by the hand, and with the light 
of the gospel, been conducted out of a despondency which to me was like 
the valley of the shadow of death, into a region illuminated with the 
brightness of heaven, and the smiles of Grod's favor. But I have reason 
to believe that I appeared to others so anxious to conceal my situation, and 


74 Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. [September 

possibly betrayed such sensitiveness to every thing that bore allusion to it, 
that no one was willing to attempt an intrusion into my confidence. What 
makes me think that a balm might have been poured into my diseased 
feelings, that would have been attended with grateful relief, and not been 
rejected as offered by an impertinent interference, is, that after long con- 
tinuance in this suffering state, some person in whom I had confidence, did 
take occasion from some expression incidentally thrown out on my part, 
to advert to the satisfactions of religion ; and the manner in which it was 
done, made me grateful, as though I saw in him the friend of my heart. 
The truth is, as the reader is well aware, that a morbid melancholy had 
settled upon me. It is of no consequence how futile and senseless was 
the cause. This will only show that the preeariousness of our temporal 
happiness may spring, not from evils that are real and inevitable merely, 
but from sources which, if you will, exist in the imagination only, and are 
in their true merits equivalent to nothing. Religion is the proper and 
only effectual cure of all the ills that humanity " is heir to." Ignorance, 
misconceptions, the natural darkness of the soul, or a diseased action of 
the body upon the mind, may sink the unhappy subject into desperation; 
but in every case, could the gospel be brought to bear upon him, not with 
a perverted, but with its genuine influence, the remedy is infallible and 
complete. Its action in the instant it is felt, will be pronounced to be the 
very infusion into the wounded spirit which heals wherever it is felt, car- 
rying along with it energy and joy that are like "life from the dead." 

The reader will see that at a period of my life as happy as any which I 
had ever known, which had been of long continuance, and to which I 
suspected no interruption, it was broken as suddenly as a vessel of glass is 
dashed in pieces, not by the loss of property or friends, not by a fit of 
sickness, the necessary amputation of a limb, or the stopping up of one of 
my senses, but by a glancing thought of imagination only, converting a 
bosom into a scene of darkness and desolation, where all, till then had been 
light and cheerfulness. I sometimes struggled for deliverance, from an 
occasional supposition, that such might really be the nature of my affec- 
tion. But in every effort, though resolutely made, I was fairly overpow- 
ered, and felt myself brought down irresistibly into the dust. I discovered 
upon a few occasions incidentally occurring, that being in company my 
thoughts were stolen away from the dejecting apprehensions that usually 
occupied them, and my spirits would mount unawares to the gaiety once 
familiar to them. But in less than an hour after returning into solitude, 
I found myself again prostrate under the same incumbent pressure, though 
I recollect that at the moment I manfully determined no more to yield to 
it. After a continuance of some two or three months in this wretched 
state, I came to a conclusion that to prosecute education any longer in 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. 75 

circumstances so disqualifying and disheartening promised no valuable re- 
sult, and that it was too much for me to continue to bear. The issue to 
which I arrived was, to obtain permission to leave the college, and should 
I live to study a profession, to apply myself to the study of medicine. 
The explanation was made to Dr. Witherspoon and Dr. Smith, and they 
listened to it apparently with regret. They spoke of the importance of 
completing an education whatever my profession might be. It terminated 
in a recommendation to visit my friends for two or three weeks ; that pos- 
sibly my health might be improved; and if it should be, by all means to 
return as soon as possible to my studies. They doubtless suspected the 
true cause of my difficulties, and their advice was fitted to the removal of 
them. To get home was but an afternoon's ride in the stage, and after 
being there a few days I discovered that the state of my feelings began 
sensibly to change. I had grown into the habit of daily prayer, and it 
was not long before my mother without my knowledge discovered it, to 
her great satisfaction. I staid out the three weeks, and so surprising was 
the recovery of my mental firmness and emancipation from the bondage 
which had so long bowed me to the earth, that I felt no difficulty in re- 
solving to return and resume the studies to which I had once determined 
to bid adieu forever. 

It may be asked, perhaps, in what light I considered the experience 
through which I passed in regard to its religious influence, and whether 
it was deemed by myself to be attended with true conviction of sin, or to 
terminate in a change of heart ? To this I feel compelled to answer in the 
negative. My heart was too much in a state of bondage through the fear 
of death, to agree to the character of one renovated by the faith of the gos- 
pel. I never enjoyed any of the satisfactions of religion, springing from 
love to Glod, and confidence in his mercy, through Christ's atonement, as 
the means or the pledge of pardon and acceptance as an heir of life. Could 
I have experienced this, it would probably have dispersed the thick and 
dreary cloud that hovered around me, and would have darted sunshine 
through the soul. It was a spirit of depression and despondency, as if all 
hope were blighted, and I could look with no complacency upon the pre- 
sent or the future. I struggled for deliverance, but every effort was felt 
to be in vain. I engaged in prayer because I dreaded the final judgment 
of the Almighty, to which, in my apprehension, I might soon be called. 
Looking on this life as having no interests for me, and on death as all that 
intervened between the present and the irretrievable loss that was to fol- 
low, every resource was cut off to which I might look for some satisfaction 
to beam upon my mind, or replace its dejection with joy and courage. And 
that which makes me think the more that 1 had none of the true spirit of 
a child of God is, that in my wishes for relief, I thought but little of its 

76 Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. [September 

nature, provided only I could effect an escape from the dreadful gloom 
which constituted my misery. The consequence was, that in a very short 
time after my return to cheerfulness and confidence, my thoughtlessness 
of Grod, of piety, and a future world, in too great a degree returned with 
them, until at length my mind became as worldly as ever. 

It has been already mentioned that Dr. Witherspoon lived a mile from 
town. It was already a long time that he had retired from the daily and 
personal supervision of the college. He had become advanced in years, 
and after passing much of his life, not only in an active and efficient man- 
agement of the institution, but in a participation of public affairs, and as 
a member of Congress in the Revolutionary War, he sought exemption 
from the daily cares of collegiate government, leaving its maintenance 
principally in the hands of Dr. Smith, who had married his daughter, and 
who held the vice-presidency. Mrs. Witherspoon, whom he had married 
in Scotland, died while I was a student, and some time afterwards it ap- 
peared that even at that late period he resolved upon another marriage. 
One morning, shortly after prayers, it was rumored among us that the 
Doctor had set out very early, in the old family carriage for Philadelphia. 
It was soon confirmed, to the surprise of all, for the matter had been con- 
ducted in brief time, and principally, if not entirely, by correspondence, 
with a lady of his acquaintance. He took breakfast that morning with 
Dr. Armstrong, in Trenton, twelve miles on the way. Dr. A. felt the sub- 
ject to be of a delicate nature, and forebore all allusion to it, especially as 
Dr. Witherspoon said nothing respecting it himself. Dr. W. was but lit- 
tle in the habit of appearing in the style of that morning's equipment ; 
probably it had been some years since the wheels of the ancient vehicle 
had rolled under him. To make out a competent number of animals for 
the draught, (less than four, it seems, would not do,) some were called in- 
to this higher service, from the more humble functions of the cart or the 
plough. It could not be expected, therefore, that they should appear in 
uniform, as if they had been originally selected for purposes such as that 
for which they were now arranged. As speedily after the dispatch of 
breakfast as might be, the visitor and the visited passed to the door, one 
for the continuance of his journey, the other to show honor to his guest, 
as well as gratitude for the privilege he had enjoyed. For truly Dr. 
Witherspoon's conversation could multiply many times the pleasure of a 
breakfast served up to a man in the best manner, by his own fireside, and 
in the most auspicious circumstances. As ill luck would have it, if that 
can properly be called luck which the circumstances rendered almost in- 
evitable, the first thing that caught the eye of Dr. Armstrong, and in easy 
good nature prompted the tongue, was the disparity in size, color, and 
form that reigned luxuriantly among the quadrupeds. ""Why, Doctor," 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. 77 

was his remark in pleasantry, " you do not seem to be very well matched." 
It will not appear strange if to one upon the verge of being a bridegroom, 
at any age, though it might be sixty-two, which happened to be the Doc- 
tor's, the image of horses, absorbing as that might be which was furnish- 
ed by his own, was not uppermost in his thought. And this might espe- 
cially be expected, when the one to whom he looked to be the bride, was 
in all the bloom and fullness of two and twenty. That, therefore, befell 
which the two friends had most studiously, and till this very last moment, 
successfully eluded. The one spoke of horses, the other thought of matri- 
mony ; and the reply of the Doctor was, " I neither give advice, nor do I 
take any." This was said as he ascended into the vehicle, and both the 
coachman and his animals commenced their respective functions with an 
action commensurate with their energies. 

A few days elapsed, and one morning it was whispered among the stu- 
dents that on the previous evening the Doctor had returned with his bride. 
This was at first offered in the shape of a surmise only. But such a sub- 
ject could not be permitted to rest without more light than what the night 
had thrown upon it. It was soon ascertained to be a fact, and a few of us 
were forthwith deputed to solicit the intermission of business for. a day at 
least, that we might all manifest our joy, and do honor to the occasion. 
We soon arrived near the Doctor's mansion, and while we were yet some 
distance from the door, he presented himself for our reception. We were 
not a little delighted to be greeted with a welcome beyond what we felt 
ourselves assured in anticipating. We were invited with a flow of feel- 
ing such as we had never observed in the Doctor, to enter, and then ad- 
vancing to the side-board, to join with him in a glass of wine, which need- 
ed not to have been so well selected as it was, to prove to us highly pala- 
table and cheering. Being commended to drink to the health of the 
bride, we answered by uniting that of the bridegroom also, with a respect- 
ful wish, and I am sure an ardent one too, flowing from the bottom of our 
hearts, for their happiness through many years to come. We informed 
him that we appeared on the part of the college to ask some release from 
ordinary business on an occasion so gratifying to us all, and that we might 
have opportunity of manifesting our joy. " Yes, by all means, if it is your 
wish," was the reply. " At such a time as this, we must admit a suspen- 
sion of business for two days at least, if not three." In the length of time 
spoken of, a discovery was made of something beyond our most sanguine 
expectations. It was one, as may be supposed, in which we could see 
nothing to mar our satisfaction. We were delighted to the full, and though 
we could not press him to our bosoms, he found his way to our hearts. 
We took our leave with grateful expressions, and hastened back with the 
tidiners to our fellow students, 

78 Autobiograjihy of Dr. Caldwell. [September 

At the close of the third day, a large piece of ordnance, a thirty-six 
pounder I think, which was a relict of the Revolutionary contest, had 
been brought up and placed before the college. At the first fire, as a sig- 
nal, the whole front appeared illuminated as in an instant : at the second, 
in an hour or two afterwards, the light was as suddenly extinguished. This 
was the conclusion of the three days allowed us, falling little short in hil- 
arity of feeling to our young bosoms, of that which had been excited in 
older minds six years before, when intelligence was received that definite 
articles of peace had been signed at the British court, recognizing the 
independence of these United States. 

I have related these incidents of a college life, because to some they 
may be amusing, who have been themselves familiar with it : to others 
who have not, they will serve as specimens of the manner in which stu- 
dents live, or may be affected in their peculiar circumstances. 

It is a question which may easily occur, whether the youth is happier 
who passes his early years in a University, or he who is reared to an occu- 
pation which through the same period calls him to bodily labor. The in- 
quiry may be extended to the whole of life. It may be asked whether 
any one has a greater prospect of enjoyment in a life of diligent mental 
or corporeal occupation. As to indolence or unfaithfulness in the prose- 
cution of either, they are not to be brought into view, both because they 
are unworthy of our consideration, and if mixed with the subject, must 
make it wholly indefinite. It is certainly very common with students to 
pant after the privileges of a rural life ; and perhaps it is no less so for 
the son of the farmer, who is constrained to daily toil, as every one ought 
to be who is to follow that profession, to feel convinced that the opportu- 
nities of a liberal education would crown his utmost wishes. It is proba- 
ble that the unhappiness of each is chiefly due, not to the nature of his 
business, but to the indulgence of an unsettled mind, and of complaint 
against the renewed exertion and confinement that return upon him in 
uninterrupted continuance. Each of them knows and feels his own diffi- 
culties and discontents, and it is through these that his conclusion is drawn 
unfavorably to his own employment. Each looks at the occupation of the 
other through imagination only. This selects the objects and colors of 
the picture, and he longs for the pleasures on which his eye is directed, 
without having forced upon his feelings the toils and solicitudes which ex- 
perience would teach him to be inseparable from them. An actual sub- 
jection to these would soon convince him that nothing was gained by the 
exchange, were he allowed to make it. The true secret of human happi- 
ness, so far as profession is concerned, is probably to be seen, not so much 
in the employment, as in that discipline over ourselves which by directing 
our efforts upon the greatest efficacy and skill in the performance of every 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldicell. 79 

thing we would do, becomes interested in the result, and in the true and 
efficient means of its attainment. Let not the farmer or the mechanic, 
nor let their sons look with envy upon the privileges of the student. 
Placed in his situation, subjected to his confinement, and to the same rig- 
orous exaction upon his mental faculties in the daily task, he would pro- 
bably soon sigh for exemption from them, that he might be replaced in the 
condition which he had deserted with fond and disappointed calculations. 
A student sometimes returns home from the academy or the college, repin- 
ing or clamoring with discontent, and soliciting as a privilege to be em- 
ployed in some manual or bodily exertion, rather than continue under the 
pressure and restriction of a college life. He is perhaps gratified by his 
parent. A short trial convinces him of his misapprehensions, and he 
eagerly compromises for a return to that from which his feelings had so 
strongly revolted. This furnishes no evidence in behalf of collegiate fe- 
licity, any more than that the blistering of the hands, or the soreness of 
the muscles by the labor of the first days, would prove that the same ef- 
fects and the sufferings from them are to be borne continually, should he 
addict himself to labor through the whole of life. Before we can be enured 
to any species of industry, some uneasy, if not painful effects, must be ex- 
perienced. A mind unalterably fixed upon its purpose will find these to 
be trifles. Once seasoned to its occupation, it is better capable of deter- 
mining the satisfactions it is to enjoy in the choice which it has made. 
Nor will it then do justice to its own election, if doubt and vacillation be 
not perfectly excluded. In proportion as these are permitted to agitate 
the breast, they will prove elements of dissolution to our happiness. All 
envy at the imagined superior advantages of others, all repugnance and 
fretfulness at the obstacles or inconveniencies that meet us as we advance, 
are an unreasonable quarrel with the laws of nature, and the determina- 
tions of Providence ; and if that be our temper, every situation and every 
profession will harrass us with their occurrence in sufficient numbers to 
make us dissatisfied with our lot. One who often counts the hours that 
are passing, or which are yet to come before a release from his business, is 
likely to find it too long for his wishes. Another who looks to the objects 
he is bent on accomplishing, will be apt to think it too short, and instead 
of abridging the day, he longs to extend it. The one who improves his 
time with diligence, receiving it as it is meted out to him, in the prosecu- 
tion of his settled purpose, admitting no wavering uncertainties to weaken 
or tease him with discontents furnishes a third description of character ; 
and which of them is likely to exceed in happiness, cannot be difficult of 
determination. Let not the student, or the professional man, envy the 
mechanic, or the farmer. It implies that he wants self-discipline, and if 
he continue long unhappy, the fault is in himself and not in his eircum- 

80 Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. [September 

stances. Nor let the person whose business calls him to muscular action, 
imagine that in literary, or professional life, he would be more highly fa- 
vored. It is to this very indulgence of an uncertain mind that he owes 
all his miseries. But who can be happy without reference to Grod ? How 
shall any man, young or old, rationally hope to be blest, if his plans be all 
chosen and pressed forward without the admission of the principle that He 
rules and must be consulted in all our affairs ? In our diligence, our dan- 
ger is that we shall rest in our own efficacy, and the sufficiency of the 
world. If this be our spirit, it is essentially an error, nor is it one of 
minor consequence, which may take place, and yet we make our way with 
disadvantages only. It is an error more fatal to our plans and efforts, 
at least to our happiness, than any other can be. This would appear to 
carry with it the evidence of a first truth, an indisputable axiom, to the 
judgment of the most enlightened mind, as well as the humblest christian. 
The man who admits this, not merely as a general principle when he hap- 
pens to come to it, but habitually and practically, in his meditations and 
the execution of his plans, will find himself carried forward by consistency 
to a complete acknowledgement of the gospel. 

After a continuance of four years and a half from the time of my join- 
ing the senior class in the grammar-school, we were graduated in 1791, 
my age being then eighteen years and a half. The delight I felt on that 
occasion must have been excited by a disenthralment from the confining 
rules and the ever-returning responsibilities of a college life, rather than 
by any prospect of circumstances more exuberant in happiness. My edu- 
cation was all that I could look to ; my fortune was to be made, and not 
one definite object was before me to give direction to my movements. The 
gay feelings that spread through my bosom were overcast by a sombrous 
aspect, diffusing through them a pensiveness that sometimes almost op- 
pressed me. I had always been successful in my studies, and this was an 
encouragement. But my views were altogether indefinite ; the world was 
before me, and I knew not how I was to get hold of it, that I might bring 
any ability I might possess into action, gain advantages, and then make 
them avail for the acquisition of more. I had not even decided the pro- 
fession I was to follow, and of course could not look any where for this 
species of preparation. I was young, however ; my spirits were cheerful. 
One thought in which I indulged was, that I had time to spare before 
coming of age, and that I might afford to pass some of it in amusement, 
in reprisal for the long confinement from which I was now emancipated. 
This was an unhappy mistake, for I acted so much upon it, that the im- 
provement of a year or two was lost ; which time, had it been faithfully 
applied in a course of valuable studies, would have added largely to my 
attainments. I went to reside with my mother and brother, who were now 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. 81 

at Black River, near Flanders, where he lived as a farmer upon the land 
once my grandmother's, and which she had bequeathed to him at her death. 

Some months passed away in idleness, or little better. I grew weary of 
it, but knew not., what to do. I was among farmers, and yet wholly un- 
qualified to participate in their interests or occupations. I found that 
capital without a market was of no value. They looked upon me as a 
scholar, but they had no use for scholarship, and I was in danger of fal- 
ling into disesteem, if not contempt, from the inefficacy of all that I 
possessed for any profit to them or to myself. 

At length it was suggested by some of them, that a few boys in the 
village and neighborhood wanted instruction in the languages. It was 
proposed that I should teach them ; and so weary was I of doing nothing, 
that I took refuge in the employment, though I thought it an humble bu- 
siness. It was an easy business to me, and I took pleasure in looking again 
at the beauties of Virgil, and unfolding them to my scholars. I contin- 
ued some months to do this, but it was felt to be a matter of small moment 
in comparison with the larger and higher objects of imagination. It was 
still a difficulty to know how to get at them. They rose up in numerous 
and picturesque forms, but in my youthful inexperience and inability to 
address myself to men, to make propositions or present inducements to 
them, it seemed that it was all fancy only, which I began at last to think 
was never to be realized. 

Whatever else may enter into the purposes of the young, love is certain 
to constitute a part. Some of our neighbors, as must always happen, made 
a figure in property and consequence above others. Next door but one to 
ours, was a family of this description. A young lady was of its number, 
who I found began to fasten upon me in a manner so pleasing, that I had 
no disposition to displace the thought of her by any reflections which 
might be at variance with it as an inmate of my bosom. My morning 
walks soon came to be decidedly more frequent by her house, than in the 
opposite direction. If she happened to be visible, which was not unfre- 
quently the case, as northern families in the country are apt to be in the 
habit of bestirring themselves early, my eye would steal glances towards 
her, which would serve to make the time till I returned home, pass with 
more vivid enjoyment of the fresh air, the scenery around, the alacrity of 
healthful sensation, and the enchanting tints diffused by fancy over the 
fields, and every subject of my thoughts. As yet our intercourse had 
been but infrequent. We were both young, and could scarcely venture 
to think of a matter involving such serious consequences as matrimony. It 
was to our early minds too distant to be realized. Such at least I deemed 
to be the state of her sentiments, from her manner, so far as I had ob- 
served it. She was willingly communicative, but rather pensive than gay. 


82 Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. [September 

Her father had been educated for the ministry, but being of a slender con- 
stitution, and somewhat apprehensive of pectoral weakness, he had made 
choice of a farmer's life, that he might be called into activity, augment 
bodily strength, and prevent that reaction of the mind which might over- 
power it. Her mother was an excellent woman, but fell much short of 
her husband in sprightliness and intelligence. 

At length as my walks would recur, for they were agreeable, it seemed 
observable that I was seldom, if ever, disappointed in seeing her ; and 
when she appeared, it was not in a passing manner only, as at first, but 
when I came into view her movement lingered, her eye became directed 
upon mine, which, in spite of a repressive feeling of modesty to which I 
was exceedingly subject, was sure to be turned upon her, and we would 
almost stop under the influence that certainly fascinated me, and to which 
I could not but flatter myself she was not wholly insensible. If the wings 
of Mercury had been put upon my feet, I could not have felt lighter after 
observations like these. My heart began to run upon this object with re- 
newed interest through the day. And whenever the thought of Miss 
O returned, the probability that if I should seek a more intimate ac- 
quaintance, the proffer would not be declined, excited in my young bosom 
trembling emotions, to be set down under the head of enjoyment; for time 
which had before dragged heavily, now glided along with a pleasing 
smoothness, and my uneasiness at the idea that I was making no headway 
towards the prospects to which I looked with indefinite contemplation, but 
determined purpose, ceased to torment me. My walks were still renewed, 
as I did not fail to be gratified with the appearance of her who was now 
their principal motive, I loitered as I drew near, and when the bow and the 
good morning were offered with a smile of interest and complacency, they 
were returned with ' expression and manner which I thought I could not 
misunderstand. I stood still and entered into conversation. The soft 
and pleasant tones of her voice, with her willingness to listen and reply, 
without any appearance of a disposition to terminate the interview, gave 
delightful intimations that something of the same sentiment was alive in 
her bosom, which was thrilling in mine. 

After this our acquaintance grew more intimate. I visited the family 
sometimes, and my reception implied that there was no unwillingness that 
my visits should be continued. But to what purpose was all this ? was 
an inquiry which began to press much upon me, and to occupy my thoughts 
as though I was engaged in an inconsistency with which I could not be 
satisfied. I had never given up the idea that my destiny was to be mark- 
ed out, not in the place where I then was, but somewhere at large, in some 
other sphere, for the one in which I then moved was felt to be of dimen- 
sions too diminutive to satisfv me. These considerations, though thrust 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. 83 

out of sight by the force of my first youthful experience of a passion that 
reigns in the bosoms of all, began to weigh heavily upon me, whenever an 
approximation to the final issue compelled me to look upon it as but a few 
steps before me. I pretend not to say whether, if the plan of a matrimo- 
nial connection with this young lady whose charms had given me more 
knowledge of what it was to love than I had before acquired, had been 
urged to a determination, it would or would not have been successful. It 
was a question which in the existing circumstances, I felt too appalling to 
bring to a crisis. Had it been pressed to a successful conclusion, it would 
have undoubtedly furnished another instance of Providential disposition, 
by which the whole course of my life would have been permanently di- 
rected by a turn, as upon the minutest pivot, into a channel wholly differ- 
ent from that in which it has flowed. To myself alone it can be supposed 
a matter of any interest. But when every other person directs his eye 
upon similar instances in his own history, in which circumstances the most 
trivial have given a shape to the whole of his subsequent condition in the 
world, the reflection becomes obvious and impressive, by what small events 
Providence guides the destinies of our existence. 

While in this situation which seemed tending to a crisis, and not long 
after its last peculiarities which had been so delicately interesting to me 
had occurred, I received notice, I scarcely remember how, that my services 
as an assistant teacher would be acceptable in Elizabeth town, in the lower 
part of the State. No hesitation was felt in accepting the offer. I left 
Black River forever, my studies were renewed, and the opportunities of a 
polished community, and literary society were relished more exquisitely 
after the tedious and dismal sequestration I had suffered. My compan- 
ionship, and the privileges of living under a ministry and in a congrega- 
tion where religion was highly estimated, and its impressions were often 
deeply felt, proved the means of turning my thoughts and affections anew 
and with more intensity on that subject. The result was such that the 
question of a profession, which had never yet been decided, terminated in a 
conclusion, if Grod would sanction it with his grace, that I would commence 
a course of studies for the sacred ministry. "With much diffidence and 
apprehension, I entered on the prosecution of these subjects under the 
direction of the Rev. David Austin, then pastor of the Presbyterian con- 
gregation in the place. A relative of his by the name of Sherman, was 
my companion in study. My obligations both to the uncle and the ne- 
phew, for their personal kindness and encouragement, have ever been re- 
membered with the deepest and most affectionate gratitude. Poor Sher- 
man, as himself told me some years afterwards, in a letter, renounced Or- 
thodoxy and espoused Socinianism. Other events afterwards befell, dis- 
tressing and mortifying in their nature, which were successively heard of 

84 Autobiography of Dr. Caldioell. [September 

by me with surprise and regret. They must have been humiliating to him, 
but it is useless to repeat them bere. They imply nothing, however, that 
will affect his moral character, except it were true, as I was told, that he 
became, at least in some degree, intemperate. 

Some months after commencing the study of Divinity, it was proposed 
to me to undertake the instruction of an academy at Springfield. To ob- 
tain funds, I entered into negotiation upon the subject. The gentlemen 
who spoke of it, appeared to me at first rather cool and reserved for my 
feelings, for their manner implied some apprehension respecting the re- 
sult. I felt and manifested more independence than was consistent with 
my circumstances, for it was really a matter of some consequence to me to 
engage in the business. While we were conversing on preliminaries, and 
were on the point of reaching a conclusion, a letter came from Dr. Smith, 
of Princeton, proposing that I should become a tutor in the college. As 
soon as these gentlemen were aware of this, they manifested no small sur- 
prise and agitation, and their urgency grew continually, until while I per- 
severed in my conclusion to accept of the tutorship, I was in danger of 
being charged with improperly disappointing them, as though a contract 
had been already made. On this, however, they could by no means in- 
sist. I asked them whether as friends, they would advise me to accept of 
their offer in preference to my prospects at Princeton. They candidly re- 
plied that they could not, and so we parted upon sufficiently good terms. 

At the college I instantly began to feel the vast difference between the 
privileges of a student in a place where science and literature were the 
professional occupation of all around me, and abroad in the world, where 
the prosecution of these objects not only was unsupported by a communi- 
ty of feelings and interests, except perhaps with one or two, but seclusion 
from much intercourse was indispensably necessary to any tolerable suc- 
cess. In the midst of professors, and scholars, and libraries, bent upon 
as great attainments as I could compass, having a taste for learning and 
intent on qualifying myself liberally for a profession, I was happy in ex- 
patiating upon classic ground, and desired nothing so much as the very 
privileges I enjoyed of traversing the volumes which it was my duty to 
take as my guides to the ulterior purposes before me. Nothing troubled 
me so much as an interruption of my studies. This had been much the 
case through the whole course of my education, and as my disposition was 
in general kindly towards others, I never could well understand how num- 
bers of young men could be prompted as they evidently were, not only to 
lavish as much time as possible in idleness, but to interpose obstructions 
with almost a spirit of malignity and persecution, in the way of others who 
were studious of abstraction and improvement. It is evident, however, 
.that where there is no community of sentiment among men, they are not 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. 85 

satisfied with neutrality or indifference toward one another, but grow into 
opposition and even mutual hatred. To prevent this, self-discipline is 
more or less necessary. Its cultivation and establishment through society 
is one evidence of superior civilization. But the spirit of forbearance 
can never be fully comprehended, but by the exposition of the gospel to 
the mind and the heart, not in their ordinary natural state, but as they are 
made capable of the proper feelings of this virtue, by the Spirit of Him 
who revealed and illustrated it in the scriptures. And if forbearance, 
which is but a negative virtue, cannot be known and felt without such 
a reformation, much less can the spirit of that positive celestial charity be 
supposed producible by us, which binds all in the creation that are under 
its influence, to the throne of G-od and to one another in ties, which by 
his own formation, are the certain and only pledge at once of individual 
and universal happiness. 

The same variance in taste, sentiment, and interest is exhibited in the 
little society of a college, as agitates the world at large, through its com- 
munities and governments. There is no condition, indeed, in which we 
may not learn human nature, and find it the very same in one as in another. 
In every one will he enough of the evil passions and obliquities to sicken 
or wound us with their offensive forms, and thanks be to Him who pre- 
serves and governs this world as a probationary state in mercy, there is a 
mixture of better characters and qualities, sufficient not merely to recon- 
cile us to the evil, but to create attachments even in the best of men, by 
which they cling to their objects as with a dying grasp. 

While residing at Princeton this third and last time, an incident occur- 
red once more of a nature to impress upon me awfully the perfect uncer- 
tainty of life, while we are in the height of its enjoyments, in the vigor 
of youth, and when the peril is unsuspected the moment before we are in- 
volved in it. A young man fully grown, by the name of Simpson, was a 
student of the college. It happened that some intimacy grew between 
us, as might easily be, as I occupied a room in the college building. In 
the warm season of the year, we agreed to take an early walk to the usual 
place of bathing, because the air would be fresh, and we should be with- 
out other company. Simpson, though of full size and age, could swim 
but little ; scarcely with skill and confidence enough to venture into deep 
water. It was different with me, and while he was practising in shallow 
places, the freedom and repitition of my passages over the deeper parts, 
there was reason to think became a temptation to him. In setting off 
from where he was to pass up the stream, which could not be done with- 
out swimming further than he had ever before attempted, I called out to 
him with a cheering voice, and without thinking whether he would make 
the trial or not, to follow on. I arrived at the shallow water above, and 

86 Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. [September 

on turning round wa3 surprised to see him arrived at the middle of the 
deepest part. He seemed to be doing very well, and I told him so for his 
encouragement. Almost instantly afterwards I saw him place himself de- 
liberately in an erect attitude, and descend as we generally do, to try the 
depth of the water. His appearance was so much that of self-possession, that 
it seemed handsomely done; but when he rose, as a little afterwards he did, 
his person shooting almost half above the surface, and the water project- 
ing a full stream from his mouth, a sudden horror seized me; I saw that 
he had given out at the time when he went down ; in his confusion, he 
had hoped the depth might not be too great for him ; it was, however, far 
over his head, and, if he had held his breath at all, he had instantly ceased 
to do so, Without assistance, he must inevitably drown, perhaps before 
I could get to him to afford it, even if I were able. I was aware of the 
convulsive struggles of a drowning man, and had often heard how dan- 
gerous. I was small and light; he was larger than the ordinary size in 
bone and muscle, and had the appearance of unusual strength. The mo- 
ment I saw him in that desperate situation a sudden compunction flashed 
through me for having probably been the occasion of his losing his life, 
when I so rashly spoke to him to follow from the starting place ; and, be- 
side this, I could not indulge for a moment the thought of seeing him 
drown without an effort to save him. All these considerations passed 
through my mind in far less than the time necessary to their utterance, 
for we think with almost incredible rapidity in such extreme emergencies. 
In fact, he had no sooner disappeared again, after rising out of the water, 
than I was on the way, whatever was to be the consequence. 

In passing to the spot where he was struggling with death, I observed 
that he still continued to project himself above the water from the bottom, 
as often as he sunk. My plan forgetting him out was, to avoid his grasp 
by going up behind him, in such a manner that by reaching out my right 
hand in front and taking hold of his left arm near the shoulder, I might 
exert upon him, steadily, as much force as was necessary to support his 
head above water, and so push him forward to the shore, depending on 
the other arm and my feet for swimming. This method was thought of 
on the way, for when I set out I really had not considered how the object 
was to be accomplished. It was, I believe, the third time of his appearing 
above the water, when I was so near him as to arrive where he was, against 
the next time, and place myself for taking hold of him, should he come 
up once more. While he was in view this third time, I called out to him • 
with a voice exerted to the utmost, "To let me alone, and I would get him 
out." I certainly did not reflect in the pressure of the moment, that he 
might as well have been expected to hear me and follow my directions, as 
if he had been in the remotest extrcmitv of the globe. He arose once 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell 87 

more, and finding myself precisely in the position I wished, I attempted 
to grasp his arm, but as I might have anticipated, it was too large for one 
so much smaller as I was than himself, especially at that part, and beside 
this the smoothness occasioned by the water, and the convulsive violence 
of his motions, convinced me at once that my scheme was utterly hopeless. 
He went down once more, and I was filled with horror in the despair of 
saving him. The nest moment, however, I felt his fingers grappling at 
my legs, with such an indication in the manner as shocked me with the 
conviction that if he succeeded in laying hold on me, which had now evi- 
dently become his object, we must both drown together. In an instant 
I was in the utmost stretch of exertion to escape from him. Still his 
hands now and then continued to be felt, and always with a terrifying 
violence. I was convinced that I had swam far enough to be out of his 
way, and could not imagine how it could be that when I was persuading 
myself that I must be safe, his contact filled me with fresh alarm. I be- 
gan to think that it would be impossible to elude him. My efforts, how- 
ever, were of course continued, though I knew nothing of the direction in 
which they were made, until my breast struck upon the shore. I was 
surprised when this occurred, that it should have been so completely in- 
visible to me. No sooner had it happened than turning round, I saw Simp- 
son standing erect upon his feet, within four feet of me, his eyes closed, 
and the water shooting out of his mouth in a copious and continued stream. 
The relief felt when my own safety was ensured was as great as it was 
sudden, but how exquisite was the joy when I saw that he too was secure. 
While I had been making my way to the best of my ability at the surface 
of the water, he had been instinctively pursuing hard after me, though 
buried under it, and had felt the bottom in the same moment that I had 
touched the shore. He had been long struggling in the arms of death, 
but to my astonishment it soon appeared that I was much more exhausted 
than he. In walking half the mile we had to go to the college, my strength 
was wholly gone, and sinking upon the ground, I called upon him to give 
me time to rest. He showed no extreme debility, but seemed able to 
walk the whole distance without any such distress. My system certainly 
had no claims to the strength of his, but although while in the water, be- 
fore missing my aim at his arm, I had retained perfect self-possession ; 
from the moment I felt his clutch,* 1 it must have been a perfect panic 
with me, and my powers were overdone by the intensity of action that fol- 
lowed. The consequent langor, however, was not of long continuance. 
Rest, and the first meal produced no small repairs, and the pleasure felt 
for the safety of us both, probably hastened the system to its usual activity, 
so that by the next day the effects were no more perceptible. 

I shall not think it worth while to note manv incidents of mv second 

88 Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. [September 

continuance at Princeton, except that I was called to act as tutor in the 
college, and one other. 

In the tutorship my time was principally occupied in giving critical 
perfection, as far as possible, to my knowledge of the classical authors 
which it was my business to teach. This was at once my duty and my 
delight. It may be supposed, of course, that my qualifications to instruct 
were not questioned. But the part of a tutor's office which consists in 
government, is by no means certain to run parallel with knowledge and 
the ability to communicate it. This was the occasion of much solicitude, 
and of more trial to my feelings than I should have consented to bear, 
had it not been that advantages of improvement of a practical nature re- 
commended it, and that the necessity of funds imposed it upon me. My 
feelings were always delicate and sensitive, and this put it easily into the 
power of those to whom the thought of being under authority was upper- 
most as ungrateful in their situation, to take revenge upon the unfortu- 
nate being whose indispensable duty it was to enforce the rules of the col- 
lege. No provocation was necessary to call into action a spirit of mischief, 
tumult, and attack. No plea of necessity for quiet to the success of study, 
or for decorum and respect for the enjoyment of privileges and credit in 
society, was of sufficient avail to repress disorderly conduct, or prevent it 
from growing into outrage if it was not met and resisted. He, then, who 
exercises authority, especially over the young, may expect to be unreason- 
ably assailed by some at least, whose study it will be, and who will there- 
fore be far more successful than in prosecuting their education, to punc- 
ture his feelings, and to inflict torture upon them in an exquisite degree. 
The true and only remedy for such evils is forbearance, cordial solicitude 
for the real welfare of the young whose tuition is entrusted to us, and 
unremitting fidelity to the obligations binding us to- the institution that 
looks to us for a conscientious discharge of the office it has devolved upon 
us, and for which we have made ourselves responsible. The instructor 
in whose bosom these motives are habitually alive, may, and will be, 
thoughtlessly or rudely assailed by the unfeeling, the discontented, and 
the unreasonable; but his motives and proper character will be irresistibly 
felt, and in the hour of trial he will be sustained against all the efforts of 
obloquy and opposition. It is difficult, if not impossible, for a young man 
acting in a tutorship to know at all times the estimation that attends him 
in his personal or official character. Incidents will occur to make him feel 
himself disparaged and depressed. The wounds which appear intention- 
ally inflicted upon him, are apt to be felt much more deeply than accords 
to the real merits of the case, and if the officer be not mercifully inclined, 
he may easily exceed in the infliction of punishment. The conviction of 
the offender in his own mind, and his reclamation from his fault, are cer- 

1859.] Autohiography of Dr. Caldwell. 89 

tainly the first objects of a teacher, aud scarcely to be relinquished, until 
all the efforts of reason and affectionate solicitude have failed, and the 
stubbornness and invincible adherence to a bad cause, after time for reflec- 
tion, have decided his case to be hopeless. The student who yields in 
such a struggle, furnishes greater assurance against future disorder or mis- 
conduct, than can be gained by a treatment that aims to deter by severity; 
and if he persist, the penalty which becomes necessary, will ensure all the 
efficacy which it is the proper object of exemplary discipline to secure. 
He who seeks to win the heart upon correct principles, will with difficulty 
be resisted. If he even be met in return with rudeness and insolence, let 
him not despair, for these if rightly received, furnish fresh pledges of final 

In the beginning of September, 1796, I set out upon my journey to 
North Carolina. Mr. Charles Harris of that State had been acquainted 
with me while he was a student of Nassau Hall. It was but a year that 
he was at Princeton, for he entered the Senior Class on his admission into 
the college. So little had been our personal intercourse with one another, 
that I afterward scarcely remembered that I had ever seen him. This was 
about the year 1791. In 1796, the University of North Carolina had 
commenced its business, and Mr. Harris was acting as Professor of Mathe- 
matics. Having determined to make the law his profession, he accepted 
the professorship for a short time only, and at the close of the year he 
was to relinquish his place in the college. He had understood that I was 
in the tutorship at Princeton, and sent me a letter to know whether I 
would consent to be appointed his successor. I was as incompetent as a 
child to determine the answer I ought to give. I could do nothing but 
refer the question to others whom I supposed better judges, and whom I 
had reason to consider as my best and sineerest friends. The opinion of 
most, if not all, was, that I ought to accept the offer if it should be made. 
As to myself, it was flattering to my feelings, and presented a prospect of 
respectable and permanent income. I had but little practical knowledge 
of men, but felt quite convinced that if I was qualified to engage at once 
in any species of business, it was in teaching rather than any thing else. 
If my acquaintance with the world, even where I had grown up into it, 
was but small, of that part of it into which I was going, it might be liter- 
ally said that I knew nothing. I might have had "an idea that some dif- 
ference was to be seen in the state of society, and in the manners and 
customs of the people ; but in what the peculiarities specifically consisted, 
I certainly had no conception. It was concluded that it was best to travel 
by private conveyance, and after bidding an adieu, more trying to my feel- 
ings than I had supposed it was to be, I found myself with horse and gig 
on the road to Philadelphia. I stopped at Pr. Armstrong's^ in Trenton, 


90 Autohiogrcqjhy of Dr. Caldwell. [September 

to receive from him letters of introduction to gentlemen of Hillsborough, 
in North Carolina, where he had resided some time with the American 
army as chaplain during the Revolutionary War. Coming to Philadel- 
phia on a Saturday, I was invited to preach the next day in Dr. Green's 
pulpit in Arch street. On Monday morning, one or two elderly gentle- 
men, who appeared incidentally to call, began to say that they had under- 
stood I was on a journey to another part of the country, but they had 
started the question whether it might not be possible and expedient to 
stop me where I was. They alluded to a vacant pulpit, which it seems, 
some suggestion had been made, that I might be invited to occupy as 
pastor. To this Dr. Green suddenly, and in a manner somewhat more de- 
cisive than was agreeable to me at the moment, remarked that the matter 
he believed to be totally decided : that I was on my way to Carolina, and 
that to Carolina he understood I was certainly to go. It would be to no 
purpose, therefore, to speak of plans which might be at variance with this. 
My disposition was exceedingly pliant at that age ; I had been accustom- 
ed to look to others for determination more than to myself; the sugges- 
tion had struck suddenly upon my ear; my mind, it was true, had felt it- 
self conclusively settled as to its object, and although there was an instan- 
taneous and involuntary start of revolt in my bosom at the promptness 
with which Dr. Green undertook to pronounce for me, the matter passed 
away without any thing farther said, and the next day I again found my- 
self on the road. The gentlemen who had entered Dr. Green's house, 
and commenced with the remark respecting the object of my journey, 
which they had learned, I knew not how, undoubtedly were about to pro- 
pose that I should remain some little time in the city, to give further op- 
portunity to some vacant congregation to which they probably belonged 
as elders, to form an opinion of me as a minister, and determine whether 
they might not give me a call. On this I have sometimes ruminated, as 
to the effects it might have produced upon the whole aspect of my life, 
had their proposition been listened to, and followed by a relinquishment 
of my prospects in the South, for a pulpit and a congregation in the city. 
It has impressed upon me anew, how surprisingly we are in the hands of 
God's providential interposition. 

Should we place an elastic ball upon an immense plain, and imagine 
a motion given to it which would continue through the distance of 70 
miles, and that it was subject, every now and then, to be acted on by 
impulses from other balls coming into contact in all various directions, 
sometimes laterally, sometimes obliquely in the direction of its motion, 
and then contrary to its direction, sometimes in the same line against, at 
other times in exact concurrence with its course, now with great efficacy, 
then with an action scarcely discernible, it would be a question of no easy 

1859.] Autobiography of Dr. Caldwdl. 91 

solution, where such a rolling body was likely to be found at any period 
of its motion, how far it would have proceeded, or in what line it would 
be advancing. It would have set out with an impetus originally imparted 
to it, and which is afterwards its own, it ever continues with an impetus 
forward, and these have a share of influence in determining both its dis- 
tance and its course, but it is only a portion of influence which it exerts. 
How much is ever depending upon other influences and impacts which in 
continual succession are meeting it on every side, and whose arrival both 
in time and place is wholly from without and independent of itself. Will 
not this serve as an analogous illustration of the life of a being setting 
out in the world, and advancing through it under the controlling power of 
an overruling Providence ? Let it not be imagined that I would confound 
the distinction between moral and physical motives, or consider them the 
same in their nature. Were this true, all responsibility would be taken 
away, and fatality be alike applicable to the material and spiritual world. 
Moral action is wholly diverse in its very nature, from material action, and 
it is in this difference that we forever continue accountable for every 
choice we make, and every deed we perform. In this very circumstance 
we see the wonderful and unsearchable wisdom of God. We might have 
been made acquainted with one species of agency only, the physical : and 
then every result, and our wbole progress through existence, would have 
been with no more accountableness on cur part, than the ball would be 
answerable for its position or direction at any particular moment. But 
this it seems is not the only way which God can devise for the influences 
of Providence. He can connect with his government over his creatures, 
a responsibility as complete on their part, as though any exertion of power 
by himself were wholly excluded. Who shall deny this wisdom and this 
ability to God ? All the issues of our lives are the result, not of physi- 
cal necessity, but of moral certainty, so connected in us with freedom of 
choice, and felt with a conviction so complete, that when God judges us, 
every mouth shall be stopped, for we shall know that our destiny as to 
happiness or misery, has been of our own framing. We cannot choose our 
own circumstances externally, but while we arc standing in them, we can 
choose or retain our principles. It is by these that a character is impar- 
ted to us in the eye of our Heavenly Father, and it is with these that he 
connects our happiness or misery by inviolable conditions. 

[Thus ends the Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell. There is still unrecorded 
about forty years of his long and useful life, most of which was devoted to the 
interest of North Carolina, and is, therefore, interesting to us. 

The following Note was written by a friend and former pupil of Dr. C. who 
intended to prepare a Biography of his former instructor ; from some cause, he 
has not as yet executed his intention, but we hope he will soon, as wc have 
earnestly pressed him to do so. — Eds.) 

92 Autobiography of Dr. Caldwdl. [September 

Note. — When a man dies who has filled a considerable space in the pub- 
lic eye, there seems to be a natural and just curiosity to know something of his 
private history, his parentage, his education, the events of Providence and 
the personal exertions by which he at length rose to merited distinction. 
This public interest in the history of a man who has been snatched by 
death from the stage of the world where he was acting a conspicuous part 
may be turned to valuable account. The memory of such an individual, 
who was of late the object of love and veneration, may be made a vehicle 
of much valuable instruction which would never have obtained access to 
the mind, if offered in a didactic form, unembodied with the narrative. 
It is fortunate when the subject of the memoir, himself, has left us authentic 
materials for the history of the earlier and more obscure part of his life. 
The development of all that secret portion of a man's history which passes 
within his own bosom, the geography, if we may be allowed the figure, of 
that terra incognita which, though rich in veins of gold, must have remain- 
ed always unknown, but for these personal disclosures, has often been 
found interesting enough to make amends for the absence of incidents and 
adventures, and has rendered Confessions and Autobiographies the most 
attractive of all publications. Such an advantage the writer of the pres- 
ent memoir enjoys, having found among the papers of his deceased relative 
two small manuscript volumes, containing an account* of his life till the 
year 1796 when he set out for the State of North Carolina, at the invita- 
tion of the Trustees of the University to become Professor of Mathematics 
of that institution. This memoir of himself it has been thought best to 
introduce in the form in which it was found. It is supposed that the compiler 
of this volume will perform his task in a manner more gratifying to others 
who will take an interest in perusing it, if even a considerable portion of 
it should be occupied with personal narrative and private reflections rather 
than with sermons— -a kind of composition with which, and that too of 
first-rate excellence, the world is already so full that there seems to be 
little use in increasing the stock All, I presume, which his friends and 
the public of North Carolina would desire besides the personal and official 
history, is a specimen of a few sermons, which together with that may 
furnish their libraries with a memento of the man who was thought so 
great a benefactor to this State and who is endeared to so many, as the 
preceptor and guide of their youth. 

From several passages in the narrative it would appear not to have been 
intended for the public eye, but only designed for the perusal of his 
circle of friends and to furnish authentic materials in case any future ac- 
count of him should be called for. The reader will, therefore, make re- 
quisite allowance for any want of care in the composition which he may 
discover. The complaint, however, will probably be of the opposite fault : 

1859.] A Poem. W6 

too great formality and precision of expression, which it must be con- 
fessed characterized his style in a considerable degree, and of which he 
could not quite divest himself even in relating the familiar transactions of 
his private life. But although the reader will probably remark occasion- 
ally an involved and circuitous construction of his sentences, yet he will 
perhaps admit that oftentimes the thought is given forth with more 
strength from these tortuous involutions, as the stone from the sling, de- 
riving impetus from its numerous gyrations. 


At length has come the time I feared so much — ■ 

And up must spring a poem at my touch : 

Like some old wizard, 1 must wave my wand, 

And call a full-grown poem fresh to hand ; 

Must wake my sluggish feelings from their rest, 

Must nerve my heart and hand to do their best. 

Foraye obedient to my brothers' call, 

I bring my song — 'tis Avorthless, but my alL 

I have no pow'r to call the poet's art, 

To make it give expression to my heart ; 

My right hand hath no cunning to reveal 

The thoughts I cannot speak, but ever feel : 

But if a heart that beats forever true 

With love and loyalty, is dear to you — 

If this is what you want, then can I bring 

From out my breast a grateful offering. 

Yet when I look upon our little band, 

And press with friendship's grasp each friendly hand ; 

When I look 'round upon each empty chair, 

And think of him who once sat smiling there ; 

When rises plainly each remembered form 

Proud of its youthful hopes, with passions warm, 

When I reflect that ere long others too 

Must go, and burst our scarce-healed wounds anew ; 

Then thought contends with thought within my brain, 

To give me pleasure or inspire with pain. 

Again I see the forms of brethren true, 

And hear their voice, and press their hands anew ; 

Again I feel the pang, the bosom's swell 

I felt when to our friends I said, " Foraye, farewell." 

Thus class by class we see our friends depart, 

And feel each year keen separation's smart. 

But thus 'tis writ, and thus foraye shall be 

The sad experience of our destiny. 

* The Secretary begs leave to certify that the above is an exact copy of the 
Poem delivered before " Our Club" by Sam Soaring, in accordance with law. 

94 A Poem. [September 

The golden clouds that deck the evening's brow 

Are bright, and beautiful, and glorious now ; 

But scarce the sun shall set, when black as night, 

Those clouds shall gather quick to mock our sight ; 

And rain, and hail, and storm shall beat the earth 

To show mankind what smiling clouds are worth. 

And thus in life, scarce comes our pleasure's noon, 

When sorrow comes to cloud it all too soon ; 

Scarce have we learned to love our friends, when lo ! 

The summons comes that bids them quickly go. 

Scarce do we learn to form and feel the tie, 

When we must teach our lips to say, " Good-bye" — 

But not our hearts — fore'er their names shall be 

Engraved upon the plates of memory. 

Blest Memory, the youthful love thy name, 

And age, and weakness, bless thee still the same. 

When one by one our loved ones pass away, 

And our own bodies hasten to decay ; 

When every hope has fled, and we remain, 

The lone inheritors of age and pain ; 

When we have over-lived our usefulness, 

And naught is left us but to feel distress — 

How pleasant then to ponder on the past, 

And think of joys that were too sweet to last ! 

How full of joy each step in life to trace, 

And call up one by one each well-known face ! 

To read the names and scenes on mem'ry's page, 

The last and sweetest pleasure of old age. 

When e'er I look around me, and behold 

The lovely fading, and the young grow old ; 

When Nature stamps each change on ev'ry face, 

And gives the hobbling gait for youthful grace ; 

When ev'ry hope that cheered our earlier ways 

Is buried with the thoughts of other days, — 

The question aptly comes, Why were we made? 

And wherefore doomed to see each prospect fade ? 

To see the friends Ave love and foes we hate 

Grow old and weak, and then succumb to fate ? 

We clasp within our arms and strive to save 

Our cherished dead-ones from the ruthless grave — 

In vain our efforts, they must surely sink 

And leave us trembling, weeping, at the brink. 

And wherefore do we cherish yet the dead, 

And love their names e'en when their souls have fled ? 

Why do we often sit alone and gaze 

Upon the pictures fancy loves to raise — 

Of friends departed to their spirit home, 

Whose dread, yet splendid gateway, is the tomb ? 

Why walk we near the mounds with solemn face ? 

Why is the grave-yard such a sacred place ? 

We feel, we know, the dead shall live again 

In endless gladness, or in endless pain. 

Though time should fade into eternity 

The soul must live right on — it cannot die. 

Sweet gift of God, the thought that we shall live — 

The dearest that e'en God himself could give — 

Go count the cost when his own Son he gave 

That he might raise his creatures from the grave. 

1859.] A Poem. 95 

But other gifts we have, fair Nature's face 

Is naught but beauty, naught is it but grace. 

The beautiful, how it awakes our love, 

Binds us to earth, yet calls our thoughts above ! 

The heart that scorns to feel a kindly tone, 

Bows humbly to the beautiful alone. 

'Tis this inspires the poet's sweetest lays, 

And tunes his feelings to the words of praise. 

Each scene of beauty does the painter draw 

From what his eyes, or what his fancy, saw ; 

And every pleasure of each fleeting hour 

Owes to the beautiful its pleasing power. 

The scenes around our homes by mem'ry drawn — 

Their loveliness distinct, their roughness gone — 

Make us revere the place where, years ago, 

We tasted joys we ne'er again may know. 

'Tis this that turns the soldier's footsteps home 

When full of scars, his bloody work is done ; 

lie hopes to clasp again the lonely wife 

He loved so much before he knew of strife ; 

And as he plods his long and weary way, 

His wandering thoughts recall the festive day, 

When 'neath the oak a maiden at his side 

Promised all blushing to become his bride. 

Another scene then rises to his sight, 

Well he remembers how the day was bright, 

When in his eager arms, with rapture wild, 

He clasped his beautiful, his first-born child. 

How changed the prospect when the cannon's roar 

Swelled out the dirge of those who lived no more, 

When glittering squadrons dashed with deafning peal 

Against opposing squadrons' ready steel. 

The carnage o'er, how mournful was his tread 

Who sought a friend among the ghastly dead. 

And now, joy! that peace at last has come, 

He bears his scars and hard-earned laurels home. 

Whose pulses do not leap more merrily 

When home is painted to his fancy's eye ? 

The sailor tossed upon the raging main, 

In every billow sees his home again. 

The white-capped surges vividly recall 

His neat, white cottage, as they break and fall ; 

Dark mountain waves that in the distance form, 

Come rolling on, the rear-guard of the storm — 

These all inspire him with a wild delight, 

And call to mind where he first saw the light. 

And when the clouds in forms fantastic break, 

The crimson blood mounts warmer to his cheek — ( 

Behold, he sees a loving mother there, 

Kneeling to God in earnest, voiceless prayer ! 

And on the zephyr floating o'er the wave, 

A whisper comes — " My son, Father, save I" 

When far from home the restless traveller goes 
To feast his eyes, or free his soul from woes, 
In vain he seeks in some palatial dome 
To find the quiet joys, the rest of home. 
In a strange crowd he searches for some face, 
Where sympathy and kindness have a place ; 

W A fio^tn. [September 

Fruitless the trial — mocking faces throw 

A double bitterness upon his woe. 

When sick and wearied, no soft hands compose 

His soul to rest, his body to repose ; 

But turning to the wall with bitter groan, 

The strong man weeps, because he is alone. 

! then to him a friend were worth far more 

Than all Golconda's glittering, priceless store. 

As when the Arab coursing o'er the sand, 

Thirsting and famished, saw a sack at hand, 

With nimble fingers quickly it unrolled, 

And cried in anguish, " It is only gold \" 

So he despises all the tricks of art, 

Who seeks the riches of an honest heart. 
Of all the varied pleasures men enjoy, 

There is not one more free from all alloy 

Of pain and disappointment, than he knows, 

Who to a trusty friend imparts his woes. 

To one we love 'tis meet to trust our fate, 

Wanton in love, or perish by his hate ; 

I know no joy more quiet, more complete, 

No intercourse more sep'rate from deceit, 

Than kindred souls enjoy, from men apart, 

Who speak the overflowings of their heart. 

'Tis sweet to love, but far more sweet to know, 

Whether in joy or sorrow, weal or woe, 

There is at least one being ever near 

To laugh with us, or mingle tear with tear ; 
W ith us to ramble o'er the evening walk, 
Now in gay mood, now with more serious talk ; 

With us to love and relish every scene, 
Autumn's decay, or Spring's more lively green : 

With us to think and feel, to live and plod, 

And bow with us before the throne of God. 

! sweet beyond description 'tis to feel 

The love of God along our heart-strings steal ; 

To humbly lift our hearts to God in prayer, 

And while yet kneeling, feel his answer there. 

It were a task an angel well might claim, 

To sing the pleasures that surround His name ; 

My pulse grows feeble, and my fancies weak, 

When of the great Creator's works I speak. 

My thoughts are vague, nor can my words supply 

A full description of Immensity. 

Now must I turn to other fields to find 

Tasks more congenial with my narrow mind ; 

To learn the greatness of my God shall be 

The endless pleasure of eternity. 

There is enough in Nature to admire, 
Nor is it meet that mortals should aspire 
Heaven and its wonders, and its Chief to scan, 
Until they learn full well the powers of man. 
Behold him in his cradle calmly rest ! 
No thought, no care, disturb his tender breast. 
He has no power the stroke of woe to feel 
An hour of quiet cannot wholly heal. 
He weeps a moment o'er some passing pain, 
And then his face is wreathed in smiles again. 

1859.] Woman's Influence. 101 

mind, and in turn leans upon his strong arm for protection, to be guarded 
from the rude breath of adversity, and shielded from the demoralizing in- 
fluence that a contact with the world is apt to generate, by means of his 
stern nature and rougher mould. 

That she is often doomed to be unappreciated and misunderstood — to 
have her quiet sensibility shocked by an ignorance of the extreme fragility 
and delicateness of its texture, and to suffer in uncomplaining silence over 
her wounds and trials, is sadly the truth. Man, in the pursuit of gain, 
in following the dictates of his ambition, and striving for a selfish immor- 
tality, never once stops in his onward career to think that she, too, has 
her trials, her sorrows, and her longings for that sympathy which is de- 
nied her. How often, too, in the literature of the present age do we see 
the harpoons of a low and vulgar wit and satire cast at her spotless shield. 
That they may rebound upon the heads of their authors should be the 
wish of all true gentlemen and upright and good thinking men. She be- 
comes familiar to trials that man never knows, and in his ignorance and 
thoughtlessness inflicts wounds that he imagines not. She should always 
be found occupying a position of equality and not of inferiority, for as 
some one has observed — " the rib of which woman was made was not taken 
from man's head, that she might rule over him; not from his feet that she 
might be his servant, but from his left side, next to his heart, that she 
might be his companion, his friend, the dearest object of his affections." 
Whenever she is found occupying a menial position, and regarded as an 
inferior, barbarism and ignorance, superstition and irreligion, is an inva- 
riable concomitant ; but how soon is she appreciated and the beauty and 
salutary influence of her character understood in the light of civilization, 
learning and refinement. In fact, the appreciation of woman is a precur- 
sor of improvement — it is through her influence that the mass of ignorance 
and sin is rolled away from the heart of man, and the mind rendered more 
capable of receiving the impressions of education. Without her presence 
to adorn the fireside, there is no real comfort or enjoyment — 

" The earth was sad, the garden was a wild, 
And man the Hermit sighed till woman smiled." 

In the hour of prosperity, when all things are wafted smoothly on the 
stream of time, and troubles seem to have taken their flight to other 
spheres, woman's usefulness — although working a silent influence — is for a 
time forgotten ; but let adversity's foul and infectious breath be felt wither- 
ing our hopes realized, and threatening those long and fondly cherished; let 
death, sickness and misery cover the land with their sombre shadows, and 
all things arc clothed in the habiliments of woe — in this dark hour, icoman 
alone rises in the strength of her purity and religion above the surround- 

102 To Miss Annie M. [September 

ing desolation, and with trembling hands, but firm faith, hangs out the 
beacon of Hope to the world, whose diamond glitter infuses new courage 
and determination — with her sweet voice dispels the gloom — with her soft 
touch dissipates the throbs of pain that rack our hearts to bursting — by 
her precepts raises the mind, steeped in disappointment, once more to its 
pristine and hopeful state — then, ivoman is appreciated ; beheld perform- 
ing the offices of sweet angels, as they are, they are honored, loved, and 
almost worshipped. 

TO MISS ANNIE M*******. 


You ask a poem — the request 
Were hard for me to grant : 

But when I know 'tis tliy behest, 
I must supply the want. 

As Orpheus' lyre all earth inspired, 
Made trees and mountains dance ; 

So have I felt my spirit fired 
By thine electric glance. 

To flatter is the poet's art, 

But 'tis no art of mine — 
I speak the feelings of my heart, 

And these I'll ne'er confine. 

I saw on our Excursion Day 

A blind and helpless boy ; 
It damped the pleasure of my stay, 

And saddened all my joy. 

The dashing waves, the sandy beach, 
The fort, the town, the dance, 

The laugh, the song, the gallant speech, 
The steamer's swift advance, 

The ride at night, the safe return — 
All these employed my mind : 

But 'mid them all I could discern 
And pity him all blind. 

A smile of sorrow lit his face, 
A tear stole down his check ; 

The look he gave, how full of grace, 
How eloquent, how meek ! 

1859.] To Miss Annie M. 108 

Accept this token — 'tis the song 

That sightless boy would sing ; 
And though not worth attention long, 

A sincere offering. 

Pale Dian rules with silv'ry ray 
The lonely watches of the night ; 

Beneath her influence lovers stray, 
And in her presence vows they plight. 

Yet what arc Dian's rays to me ? 

Her gentle rays I cannot see. 

How fair the sunset's rosy tint ! 

What joy the gaudy clouds impart ! 
A calmness on the mind they 'print, 

And leave their impress on the heart. 
But sunset brings no joy to me — 
Its rosy hues I ne'er can see. 

The far-off stars throw many a beam 
While rushing on their wonted race ; 

And how like diamond drops they seem 
To 'deck the midnight robe of space! 

It matters not how fair they be — 

Their brightness I can never see. 

The noon-day sun shines bright and clear, 
Dispensing joy, and life, and light ; 

All Nature sheds a grateful tear, 
And hails his coming with delight. 

The noon-day and the night to me 

Are both alike — I cannot see. 

The sweet-toned songsters of the grove 

With plumage gay, in glitt'ring throngs 
From bough to bough the forest rove, 
' And vent their joy in endless songs. 
Their plumage fair I cannot see, 
For darkness hovers over me. 

The gladsome earth resounds with cries 

Of glory, life, and liberty; 
The joyful accents reach the skies, 

And all the earth seems glad but me. 
My steps can never wander free, 
For where to go I cannot see v 

Oft' when the balmy eve has come, 
And noisy sounds of life are still, 

I paint again my childhood's home — 
The only toil that bears no ill ; 

For labor serves but to impress 

More utterly nvy helplessness. 

104 To Mis* Annie M. [September 

Each recollection of the past 
Burdens my bosom with a sigh ; 

For blind on earth I have been east, 
And blind and friendless doomed to die. 

No outward thing these eyes can see, 

But they can read my memory. 

There was one friend I had in youth, 
A mother gentle, fair, and kind ; 

She taught to sing my lips uncouth, 
She told me who protects the blind. 

'Twere rapture now to have her near, 

And her soft accents now to hear. 

When dark, they say that meteors bright 
A moment flash athwart the sky ; 

So, she illumed my childhood's night, 
And shone a moment but to die. 

O ! would my death-blow too had come 

When she was taken from our home. 

I'll turn my thoughts from earth; to heav'n 
My prayers shall day by day ascend ; 

And by that grace so freely given, 
In God Pm certain of a Friend. 

And after death my soul shall flee 

To realms where e'en the blind can see, 

June 21st, 1859. 

1859.] College Record. 105 




For want of space, we were forced to defer the completion of our account of 
Commencement till this number. Below will be found a finished record from 
1 o'clock, Wednesday, June 1st : 

Shortly after the conclusion of Mr. McRae's address, President Buchanan, 
accompanied by Secretary Thompson, Governor Ellis, and a host of other 
distinguished gentlemen, arrived under the escort of the Wilmington Light 
Infantry. It was the subject of almost universal regret that these gentlemen 
arrived too late to hear Mr. McRae's address, for they surely missed a literary 
treat, which has been rarely equalled in North Carolina. 

The distinguished visitors were properly received by the LTniversity Mar- 
shals, in the presence^of a large concourse of citizens and students. They were 
then conducted from the street to Governor Swain's yard, where the President 
of the University addressed President Buchanan in the following appropriate 
words of welcome : 

"When your predecessor, Mr. President, twelve years ago, visited this in- 
stitution, he was regarded as paying a grateful and graceful compliment to his 
Alma Mater. lie returned to the scenes and associates of his boyhood. The 
Secretary of the Navy, in the Cabinet of which you were the Premier, the 
present estimable Minister to France, came with him as one of his collegiate 
companions. Your visit is the more complimentary, because your associations 
are less intimate than his. The selection of two children of this institution, 
(one of whom we rejoice to see standing by your side, while we mourn the 
absence of the other with unaffected sorrow,) as members of your Cabinet, is 
a compliment which entitles you to a grateful consideration at our hands. 
Your presence as that of the Chief Magistrate of the Republic is a distinction 
of which we may well feel proud. Still we welcome you not merely in your 
official character, but also as Mr. Buchanan, a citizen of Pennsylvania. 

"It is somewhat remarkable, Sir, that two States so distant from each other 
as North Carolina and Pennsylvania should be so intimately connected and 
r blended in their history. The greatest of Pennsylvanians, and, with a single 
[ exception, the greatest of Americans, smote the rock of Plymouth with his 
I electric wand, and the waters of Liberty gushed forth for the healing of nations. 
V Benjamin Franklin was the main spring of the Revolution, at the South as 
well as at the North. 

"North Carolina was originally settled, to a very great extent, by emigrants 
from Pennsylvania. As early as 168G, Wm. Penn, in a letter to a confidential 


106 College Record. [September 

friend, states that fifteen thousand of the most substantial citizens of his pro- 
vince were about to seek a home in the wilderness of Carolina. But it is not 
merely the Quaker element in our population that constitutes the bond of union 
between North Carolina and Pennsylvania. The Scotch-Irish came at a sub- 
sequent period, and among them the Alexanders, the Caldwells, the Davidsons, 
the Grahams, the McDowells, the Osbornes, the Polks and the Steeles found 
their way to our borders through Pennsylvania. Jackson and Davie and others 
came to the Waxhfws through South Carolina. The third element in our 
population, for which we are indebted to Pennsylvania, are the Lutherans, 
descendants of the Protestants, who fought under William the Silent in the 
memorable contest with Philip the Second. The Phifers, the Barringers and 
their neighbors were among the earliest of these emigrants. 

"These united stocks formed a race of men rarely equalled in any age or in 
any country. God forbid, Mr. President, that I should disparage, in the small- 
est degree, the character of the Puritan. It is a matter of honest pride to my- 
self that I am a humble scion of that stock. But I feel free to declare that I 
believe in my conscience that no portion of our countrymen during the Revo- 
lution loved liberty so well, and fought so stoutly to maintain it, as the Meck- 
lenburg men. There are considerations which mark the Revolution in North 
Carolina as peculiar, and distinguish it from that in any other portion of our 
country. With the Puritan it was a war against taxation ; in Mecklenburg 
it was eminently a contest for civil and religious freedom. The Scotch-Irish, 
wherever they were found, were emphatically the sons of liberty, and the 
population of the valleys of the Yadkin and the Catawba that gave rise to the 
Mecklenburg Declaration, were Scotch-Irish and Pennsylvanians, among whom 
you also number your own forefathers. 

" The country immediately west of you was the final resting place of these 
emigrants. They furnished those who are known as the Regulators, and on 
the 16th of May, 1771, four years before the Mecklenburg Declaration of In- 
dependence, they fought the battle of Alamance, within twenty-five miles of 
the place where you stand. Whether you consider the principles involved, 
the number of the combatants, or the number that was slain, the affair at 
Lexington, in April, 1775, was less imposing in circumstances and in conse- 
quences. The great chief of the Regulators was Herman Husbands, who is 
understood to have been a relative of Benjamin Franklin, and to have acted 
as his confidential agent. In the battle, the Regulators were unfortunate, but 
many of them retreated successfully from it, and found a safe retreat in the 
wild gorges of the Alleghanies, whence they returned and wreaked ample 
vengeance for their wrongs at the battle of King's Mountain, on the 7th of 
October, 1780. 

" The defeat of Major Ferguson was the pivot on which the war in the south, 
if not upon the continent, turned. If Ferguson had not fallen the battle of 
Guilford would not have been fought, and the Revolution would not have closed 
at Yorktown. Alamance was the initial, King's Mountain the decisive, and 
Guilford the closing battle of the Revolution. Yorktown was a siege. Very 
recently I have been impressed more deeply than before with this state of facts 
by the papers of Cornwallis, which have just issued from the press. The 

1859.] College Record. 107 

defeat of Ferguson was fatal to the invasion of 1780, and Cornwallis, in the 
volume to which I refer, expressly states the fact, that before attempting the 
second invasion, in 1781, he had, by his emissaries, involved our whole west- 
ern border in the flames of a savage war. But for this, the men who foiled him 
at King's Mountain would have turned his finally fatal triumph at Guilford intc 
an immediately disastrous defeat. In a brief note written after his retreat tc 
Wilmington, to Sir Henry Clinton, he says, that much to his surprise he found 
the North Carolinians comparatively a united people, and was well satisfied 
that owing to the peculiar condition and singular character of the country, it 
would bo the most difficult of the thirteen provinces to subdue. 

" Such, Mr. President, are the characteristics and antecedents of the people, 
to whose University I bid you a heartfelt welcome, a welcome to which you 
have the strongest personal and ancestral claims." 

To which President Buchanan replied : 

" I thank you for your kindness, and I am thankful for the cordiality with 
which I have been received by the citizens of North Carolina. I have always 
had a partiality for this good old North State. Her eminently prudent, wise, 
and conservative sons have always stood by the Constitution and the Laws, 
and are destined in the history of this country to do much to preserve our 
glorious Union. 

"I thank you most heartily for the kind reference which you have made to 
my native State. I am proud to hear her associated with North Carolina. The 
two sisters have generally agreed together in all important questions. And 
there is another link between them besides those you have mentioned. You 
had an early Governor — Archdale=r-in whose day, as in Penn's day, the Indians 
all loved the white man, because the Indians were treated kindly by him. 

" You refer to mournful events. You speak of President Polk. He was 
proud in speaking of his intense love for his Alma Mater. He was a good 
man, a great man, an honest man. No man ever performed the duties of his 
high office more conscientiously than James K. Polk. Justice has not yet 
been done his memory. But the impartial historian, when he comes to collect 
the events of that period, will place James K. Polk on the list of the most 
noble and distinguished men of the country. He was a laborious man, and 
sacrificed himself with intense labors. 

" I might refer to other distinguished men who have graduated at this Col- 
lege, but this would probably be invidious. Of the dead we may speak ; it 
is best to say nothing of the living. I have come to this institution of learn- 
ing, where mind is educated, because with me mind is everything. It has 
produced the best fruits of the country. This is a practical institution, 
and I may venture to say its experience proves the superiority of a col- 
legiate over a private education. Here emulation is created. The boy 
who is compelled to recite to his master, while he is not associated with 
others, has not a due spirit of emulation aroused. But while the boys are 
at college, each endeavors to acquire superiority over the other, and so they 
become thoroughly prepared for the serious duties of life. This preparation 
has been seen in the hosts of men whom you have sent to other States. Aa 
far as I know, they carry with them the, firm integrity and wisdom which char- 

108 College Record. [September 

acterize the people of this State in an eminent degree. They have been scat- 
tered over the wilds, and have contributed essentially to give character to the 
places of their choice. 

"I wish I could address all the young men in my hearing. A vast respon- 
sibility rests upon them. While generations of men rise and sink and are 
forgotten, principles remain and are eternal. I would advise these young men 
to devote themselves to the preservation of the principles of the Constitution, 
for without these blessings our liberties are gone. Let this Constitution be 
torn into atoms ; let the members of this Union separate ; let thirty Republics 
rise up against each other, and it would be the most fatal day for the liberties 
of the human race that ever dawned upon any land. Let this experiment fail, 
and every friend of liberty will deplore the sad event. I belong to a genera- 
tion now rapidly passing away. My lamp of life cannot continue to burn 
much longer. I hope I may survive to the end of my Presidential term. But 
so emphatically do I believe that mankind, as well as the people of the United 
States, are interested in the preservation of this Union, that I hope I may be 
gathered to my fathers before I witness its dissolution. 

' ' In the flux and reflux of public opinion things are constantly passing 
away. Events that may be considered great to-day, the reflux of public opin- 
ion may remove to-morrow. Let us keep together, then, for better or for 
worse, as man and wife. For though troubles, as they say, sometimes prevail 
in the married state, yet the couple hold together and pursue their quiet way. 
I thank you for this kind and cordial reception. I have no doubt it will prove 
one of the most interesting periods of my life." 

At the conclusion of President Buchanan's remarks, cheer after cheer went 
up simultaneously from the assembled multitude. He was then ushered, by 
President Swain and the Marshals, into the parlor, and the opportunity affor- 
ded the fair ladies, who had congregated there, of exchanging friendly greet- 
ings with the President of the United States. Loud and repeated cries from 
the crowd outside brought out Mr. Secretary Thompson. He said that the 
honor was unexpected, but a man never forgets his mother, nor could he ever 
forget his Alma Mater. A thousand things rushed to his recollection on his 
arrival here. But there were two events which he would ever remember with 
especial pleasure. The first was when he got the first distinction in the Fresh- 
man Class, and ran home and told his father. The other was the kind and 
cordial reception he had met with from those who were the sons of his early 
companions. As he entered that venerable mansion, thoughts of his early 
teachers flitted across his mind. Here the venerable Dr. Caldwell resided, 
and a purer, better man never lived in this world. There was also Dr. Mitch- 
ell. He missed them now. He would like to indulge in some of these reflec- 
tions, but he would not exhaust their patience. When he left the University, 
its numbers were small, but the institution always had the confidence of the 
people of North Carolina. He found it now in the floodtide of prosperity. 
One thing as to President Caldwell. Knowledge in those days was limited. 
President Caldwell wrote several articles on the importance and feasibility of 
running a central railroad from the seaboad to the mountains. It was argued 
by him with singular force and clearness, that great and lasting good would 

1859.] College Record. 109 

be derived by the State from the establishment of such a road. But how was 
it considered in his day and generation ? He was considered a dreamer of 
dreams. The people had compassion for the good old man. They thought, 
like Festus of old, that "too much learning had made the old man mad." And 
now, to-day, I have been enabled to come here along the very track which the 
old man traced out upon the map. [Great cheering.] Now, fellow-citizens, 
said the speaker, I would like to take a walk around Chapel Hill, to look 
at the old grave yard, to see and count our old oaks, to narrate to you events 
in my own memory, for though I have wandered far, I never have forgotten 
these things. I have kept my eye upon the men who have gone out from here, 
and I hope there is now in this crowd some historian who will do justice to his 
Alma Mater. I have witnessed the influences which this institution has ex- 
erted upon the country. The history of those who have exerted these influ- 
ences, would prove interesting and valuable. I was received in a different 
State under a different star ; I exerted myself, and that star shone upon me 
with benignity and kindness ; but my love to Mississippi is not inconsistent 
with my love and devotion for my native State. Among the last conversations 
I had with my venerated companion, the distinguished and now lamented 
Postmaster General Brown, he said that he and myself should visit our Alma 
Mater together. He has gone, but when the history of the graduates of this 
institution is recorded, his page will be a bright one. Some of my class-mates 
have gone North, South, East and West, but in all their spheres, they have 
reflected credit and honor upon their Alma Mater. 

Three cheers were given for Mr. Thompson, at the conclusion of his remarks. 

The crowd now dispersed. In the interval before dinner, Governor Swain 
introduced to President Buchanan, the Marshals and Ball Managers, as the 
Officers of the University for this year. To these gentlemen the President 
addressed a few but very appropriate remarks. 

The tables for the Governor's dining had been arranged under the shade 
trees of his yard, in the form of a right-angled triangle : the hypothenuse of 
which, a broken line, was loaded with fruits, confectioneries, &c. 

About 2 o'clock, P. M., the company was seated at these tables, the two Presi- 
dents at the right-angle, while on their right were the Faculty, parents of stu- 
dents and other invited guests ; on their left, were the members of the Gradua- 
ting Class, all of whom had been kindly invited. While all were enjoying good 
eatables and amusing jokes, the Band fed their ears with excellent music. 
The Officers who had superintended the feast were next invited to dine with 
the ladies. 

At 3 o'clock the Marshals formed a procession, and escorted the Chief Mag- 
istrate to the Chapel, where an address before the Alumni Association was de- 
livered by the gifted scholar, Rev. Wm. Hooper, D. D. LL. D. 

His subject, " Fifty Years Since," was treated in a masterly style. We deem 
a synopsis of this address unnecessary, as it may be procured by applying to 
Prof. Charles Phillips, Secretary to the Alumni, at whose request it has been 
printed in a neat pamphlet of 50 pages. 

Wednesday night the Sophomore competitors occupied the rostrum ; most of 
them were graceful, distinct in pronunciation and seemed to feel what they 

110 College Record. [September 

said. The President was much pleased with their part of the exercises: The 
following is a programme of the evening : 


1. Evils of Dismemberment — Webster. Thomas T. Allen, Windsor. 

2. Plea for the Union — Baldwin. Guilford Nicholson, Halifax Co. 

3. Cato's Soliloquy on Immortality — Addison. Robert S. Clark, Texas. 
.4. Demosthenes denounced — iEschines. John H. Dobbin, Fayetteville. 

5. Spartacus to the Gladiators at Capua — Kellogg. Stephen M. Routh, La. 


1. Our Relations to England — Ed. Everett. Oliver T. Parks, Wilkes Co. 

2. Our Country — H. W. Miller. Henry J. Hogan, Chapel Hill. 

3. The last days of Herculaneum — Atherstone. John Bradford, Alabama. 

4. The death of Riccio — Aytoun. Charles M. Stedman, Fayetteville. 

5. The Elephant — Anonymous. Eli S. Shorter, Georgia. 

We are sorry tha,t Mr. Nicholson was so hoarse that Dr. Wheat thought best 
to advise him not to speak, for in his loss the Philanthropic Society was de- 
prived of one of its best representatives. 

After the first section had retired, Dr. Wheat conducted to the rostrum Mr. 
Elisha E. Wright, of Memphis, Tenn., and introduced him to the President. 
He said that he was awarded the premium for the best English composition in 
the Sophomore class, and requested the President to present the. premium, 
which was the two first volumes of "Dr. Hawks' History of North Carolina." 

The President arose and said: — "I confess I am taken by surprise. I am 
very happy to he the honored medium through which this token is presented 
to the young gentleman before me. He has distinguished himself for merit 
in composition, and that is the greatest merit, perhaps, that any literary gen- 
tleman can enjoy ; because the man who writes clearly and thinks clearly, 
after a little practice will speak clearly. The great merit of composition, in 
my humble judgment, consists in short, pointed sentences. The author who 
writes long sentences involves himself in many difficulties. One distinct idea 
presented in a distinct manner has more potency and more power than the 
sentences of a book in which everything under the sun is brought together, 
according to the style of many of our modern writers. The ancient was the best 
style, and that was emphatically the style of Mr. Calhoun, and in an eminent 
degree the style of Mr. Webster. I wish you great honor and great prosperity 
in whatever pursuit you intend to follow. I have been delighted with the 
exercises here to-day. I think I have never heard in my life more genuine 
humor and wit than that presented to-day by the gentleman who delivered the 
address, and who was formerly a professor here ; and in regard to the sober 
portions of the address, I hope they have sunk deep in the mind of every stu- 
dent of this college. The great curse of our country — that curse which has 
involved so many of the most promising young men of the land in ruin, which 
has made mothers miserable, and which has made fathers feel disgraced by 
the spectacle of their own offspring — is the crime of drunkenness, more dead- 
ly by far than the pestilence, than the yellow fever, than the plague, and 
than all other calamities that have visited man. We bring upon ourselves a 

1859.] College Record. Ill 

greater calamity than heaven has brought upon us, in any form or shape of 
misery. Everywhere you see the wrecks of this dreadful vice scattered over 
the land, in the destruction of the finest prospects that ever were presented by 
the youth of any country. I therefore wish, with all my heart, to repeat what 
has been best said by the gentleman (Dr. Hooper) who addressed you this 
evening, and ask of you all to take care of that fatal vice which degrades man 
to the level of the brute and disgraces him in the eyes of the whole world. I 
wish you, and wish all the other young men who have done themselves so 
much credit here to-day, health, prosperity and long life." (Loud applause.) 
We must be allowed to congratulate Mr. Wright upon his well-merited suc- 
cess, and would join with President Buchanan in wishing him, "health, pros- 
perity and long life." 


Commencement Day was devoted to the exercises of the Graduating Class. 
To gratify many of our patrons we publish a full report of these exercises. 

At the conclusion of the prayer, President Swain announced the Latin Sa- 
lutatory, by William Bingham Lynch, of Orange county. The countenance 
of this young gentleman was of a modest but pleasing appearance. The grace- 
ful and highly creditable manner in which he acquitted himself, elicited much 
comment and many congratulations from the friends of the speaker. His salu- 
tatory to the ladies drew forth much applause from the audience, and created 
considerable merriment among the Faculty. 

The next speaker was Thomas West Harris, of Chatham county. Subject, 
The "Hamiltonian System." It was handled with skill and ability. He de- 
fended the system, he said, from an abiding conviction of its truth. It was 
the saying of a distinguished statesman that the true philosopher is always 
fifty years in advance of his age, and knowing with what tenacity we cling to the 
faith of our fathers, he would not be understood as speaking altogether against 
the study of languages, but only as offering a few suggestions. The Hamil- 
tonian system is founded upon the fact that the knowledge of the rules of 
grammar is not necessary to translate. The grammar is reserved for those 
who would accpiire a critical knowledge of the language. The old system first 
fills the mind with abstract principles. The one teaches the language after 
the philosophy, the other the philosophy after the language. The Speaker 
claimed that this system followed the order of nature. Infants are perfectly 
ignorant of any rules of language, yet at five or six they are able to speak it — 
a student with his dictionary and grammar, after his mind has been matured 
would think it well if he were able to speak the language. If a parent wish 
his child to learn to speak French or Latin, he would most probably send him, 
if possible, among those who speak such languages. It is true that Latin 
is not spoken by living men, except on Commencement occasions, (looking at Mr. 
Lynch.) We can learn French, German, Spanish or any modern languages, 
without the aid of a grammar. Why should English be an exception to this ? 
He who attempted to speak by the rules of grammar would find a difficulty 

1 12 (Jollrgr Record [September 

that every such one must experience in the expression of his ideas. "What was 
the history of the beginner's first effort at translation? All know it. After 
having committed a portion of grammar to memory verbatim, he sits down 
with grammar and dictionary in hand, while his head may be void of a single 
idea of the language. "What did this toil and perplexity profit ? It might in- 
deed teach him patience. Like some of our medicines "it cures if it does not 
kill." The speaker then reviewed the reason assigned for the toil, "that it 
disciplines the mind,''' but he contended that the present system makes it a 
matter of memory, and so the discipline was lost. By the present method ten 
years was requisite for the study of the languages. By Hamilton's method the 
•same knowledge could be gained in less than five. In speaking of the beauty 
of the Greek language, the speaker referred to the fact that the Greeks studied 
no foreign languages. They condemned all others and studied their own, and 
yet the world in all its subsequent and boasted improvements of mind over 
matter, and with all its discoveries, has never yet furnished a mind superior in 
discipline to some of those ancient sages. Solen, Plato, Aristotle and De- 
mosthenes are still remembered and referred to as models. The speaker fur- 
ther commended the Hamiltonian system as giving more time to devote to use- 
ful study in philosophy and the sciences. He was warmly applauded by the 

The next speaker was Mr. Mills Lee Eure, of Gates Co. Subject — Objec- 
tions to an Elective Judiciary. This speaker exposed in an admirable manner 
the evils and folly of electing judges subject to the whims and caprices of the 
populace. A lthough under institutions so entirely popular as our own, to raise 
a voice against the people's rule in any department, was to incur the charge 
of folly if not sacrifice. The speaker paid a high compliment to the Judges of 
Supreme Court of North Carolina. They honor the position they hold. Had 
they been obliged to seek that position by having Giles and Jerry under their 
arm, it was reasonable presumption that neither of them would have been 
judges. Besides the perpetuity of our republic, and the prosperity of our in- 
stitutions imperatively demands the independence of this department of Gov- 
ernment. This speaker was also warmly applauded. 

Mr. Eichard "Williams Nixon, of New Hanover Co., was the next speaker. 
Subject — The Imagination to be Cultivated. The speaker, in commencing, 
said, that several circumstances had contributed to the formation of an opinion 
in the minds of men that the full development of the imagination is not nec- 
essary for, but even destructive of all practical purposes. It would be his ob- 
ject, if possible, to overthrow this futile notion. He begged leave to premise 
that the mere existence of the faculty is a consideration and presumption in 
favor of its cultivation. Every human power, whether physical or mental, 
has been perverted. The speaker then reviewed the powers of the imagina- 
tion in day dreams, and its various relations to the material world. He was 
much applauded. 

The Persecution of the Jews, by Cicero Stephens Croom, of New York, was 
the next subject. It was skilfully handled. He reviewed the history of per- 
secution, and spoke of the calamities it had brought upon mankind. Every 
sect had persecuted every other with zeal and deadly enmity. Even in this 

1859.] College Record IIS 

age of enlightenment the spirit of persecution had not yet died 1 out. It was 
this spirit that urged on the crusaders, and drove the Puritans from England. 
In our own country we read of numberless religious controversies and petty 
carping church members. Many attempt to propagate their peculiar doctrines 
by persecution, and in the name of that divine and gentle teacher who teaches 
them- to exercise love, gentleness and forbearance. But there was one race 
which has received and still receives, in this enlightened age, the bitter cup 
of persecution. The despised -Jews still cling to their cause and the faith of 
their fathers. Christian princes, Christian knights and such men, think that 
their directest way to heaven is in the persecution of the Jew. Many have 
thought it a sin and shame to pass the unoffending Jew without a curse. They 
have left him only one way to security, and that was by cunning. Princely 
lords, and lordly princes, holy fathers and saintly bishops, have stretched his 
poor limbs upon the rack. This speaker was earnest, and dwelt at length up- 
on the unblushing and repeated acts of enmity exhibited towards an unoffend- 
ing people. He was also applauded. 

The Man of Letters, by James Luttrell Gaines, of Buncombe county. The 
speaker said there had arisen an order of men, classified as literary characters. 
This was significant but expressive. Book writers do exist, and have an in- 
fluence. Our Universities were nothing but a collection of books. Evan the 
Professors were walking books. Books are the church too. We are most em- 
phatically governed by books. From the daily newspaper to the- sacred He- 
brew book, what have men of letters not done, and what are they not doing. 
Was it not strange then that these men should be so little- regarded while liv- 
ing ; that they should be left alone with their copy rights and copy wrongs to 
eke out a miserable existence. There is the man of letters, known but to be 
despised, buffeted, and buried without even the decencies of funeral rites. 
After that, we see in him a glorious being whom God sent to whole nationa 
and generations, that would not give him bread while living. The speaker; 
in conclusion, reviewed the various circumstances and trials of literary men, 
and was frequently interrupted with applause. 

The Common Sense Man, Wilbur Fisk Foster, of Alabama. The common 
sense man, said the speaker, is never ambitious. The position he occupies in 
society is an humble one. His actions are unknown. The course of his life is 
uninterrupted by those cares and circumstances, which attract and detain the 
attention of the public. While absorbed in the contemplation of those char- 
acters which stand pre-eminent, we fail either to recognize his identity or ac- 
knowledge his power. He lives in obscurity, he dies and is forgotten. Yet, 
in this great world, his influence is most salutary and indispensible. With a 
soul harmoniously attuned to the principles of his being and a mind of strong 
resources, his decisions are ever just. The elements are so mixed in him that 
all nature might stand up and say to all the world, " this is a man ■" a man 
adapted to the circumstances in which he is placed, and in the prerogatives 
which he exercises. 

Distinguished, indeed, by no superior endowments or remarkable attain- 
ments, he is not celebrated for lofty reaches of thought, for daring deeds, or 
mighty undertakings, yet he exercises a control not ordinary, and it is he whs 

114 College Record. [September 

binds and provides against the dangers which beset us ; secures that with 
which we are favored, and it is he who conducts us on to a successful prosecu- 
tion of our plans and gratification of our desires. His experience extends to 
every condition of society. It is felt and acknowledged by all. • The states- 
man, with his far-reaching foresight and deep penetration, as he guides the 
course and administers the affairs of the nation ; as difficult legislation per- 
plexes, and he turns to the humble tribunal of the common sense man. The 
moralist, as he studies the constitution of man, seeks his influence, admits it 
and acknowledges his guidance. He points him to the marks of design ex- 
hibited in his own form ; teaches him to be content with the revelations he 
has received, and to obey implicitly the omniscience of his conscience. Una- 
ble, perhaps, by acuteness to follow up an investigation, he, nevertheless, sees 
its boundaries and prescribes its limits, and when the human mind is bewil- 
dered by wild fancies, when society presents a scene of moral desolation and 
death, it is the common sense man that calms the discordant elements, drives 
back the waves and conducts it on to the successful accomplishment of the 
great ends of our being. Thus he constitutes a universal adviser to man and 
the grand conservative element of universal society. Away with the aristo- ■ 
cratic, bigoted philosopher, or narrow-minded theorist that would scorn the 
lowly position and humble attainments of the common sense man. Mr. Foster 
Was listened to with marked attention by the audience. • 

The Independent Thinker, Franklin Childs Bobbins, of Eandolph county. 
The speaker defined an independent thinker to be one who has always unsha- 
ken faith in himself. Conscious that his own gifts alone make him an account- 
able being, he directs all his energies to their development. His character is 
based on imperishable principles which neither varying circumstances nor still 
more variable men can ever change. To the shrines of honorary titles and 
great men, he brings no offering. You hear him earnestly make the great 
and important inquiry, " Is it true V For precedent, as such he has no reve- 
rence. He tries everything at the bar of his own reason. ■ In forming an opin- 
ion, he never stops to seek whether this or that friend's feelings will be woun- 
ded. Impelled only by the love of what is true, right and just, from these, 

" He varies not though friends forsake, 
Or foes revile." 

Discarding the insane doctrine that the voice of the people is the voice of 
God, he dares to oppose the multitude. When they go right, he goes with 
them. Gifted with these qualities of head and heart, the independent thinker 
looks to them on every occasion and in every emergency. From every quarter 
he brings new, original and valuable truths to the store house of thought. He 
dares to tell the truth to the world, whether pleased with it or not. He ex 
poses the empty deformity of pretenders. The man of custom may call him 
fanatical, the purposeless sycophantical man by glossing lies, may attempt to 
obscure his light, but he cannot be daunted in his pure and noble purposes. 
This speaker was also highly applauded. 

The American Student, Berryman Green, of Virginia. The superior skill 
ia the application of inventions to the usefnl arts has been long the boast and 

1859-.] College Record. 115 

pride of the American. That the energy of the country was first directed to 
the material was an inevitable consequence of the Revolution. Most of the 
appliances of art used in the mother country was lost in the new world at that 
time. But in literature no such losses exist. 

The verse of Milton and Shakspeare, had already been impressed upon the 
minds of our people. The necessities of our early years are past. They have 
found their natural end in triumph and prosperity. It is not now who shall 
imitate the glory of their fathers, but who shall raise their monument. The 
class to whom this duty is given to record the character of our fathers is just 
beginning to take position as American students. The speaker dwelt at length 
on the peculiarities of the American student and his relation to the public. 
He was warmly applauded. 

To be Great is to be Misunderstood, Benjamin Lewellen Gill, of Randolph 
county. This speaker's subject abounded in beautiful and well adapted meta- 
phors, comparing the rise of great men to mountains, which it is said never 
shake hands. They touch at their base, and often for some distance up their 
sides. These are the united parts. So with great men. In youth they are 
not to be distinguished from others. They act like others, and go hand in 
hand with them into all their joys and sorrows, actuated by the same senti- 
ments, and alike affected by petty incidents. The speaker then described the 
rise and growth of men until the mind becomes bewildered with their sudden 
elevation and the grandeur of their intellect. It was a beautiful theme and 
well delivered, and received its merited applause. 

Comparative merits of curriculum Colleges, Frederick Augustus Fetter, Chap- 
el Hill. The speaker said that while schools and colleges adorn the land, various 
interesting and important questions had arisen. The free school system promises 
to carry education to the poor man's door, but yet it has had many warm abusers, 
and there were many conflicting opinions as to the comparative merits of cur- 
riculum colleges. Some are in favor of adopting the latter altogether, while 
others are as warmly opposed to to it. How was the question to be settled ? 
The main purpose of all is to teach the young how to use information. The 
University plan by pursuing a division of. labor may attain greater perfection 
in some, while the curriculum system by treating all with care and attention, 
tarrying long enough to allow the mind to dwell upon each branch and em- 
brace the principles, may extend the field of knowledge in all directions. So 
far, the speaker claimed, the merits of the system appeared more thorough. 
The speaker stated the average period at which the thought of man begins to 
stop, was fifty years. He then dwelt upon the length of time, in general, re- 
quisite to attain a thorough knowledge of any one branch of studies. He was 
also applauded for the skilful manner in which he treated his subject. 

Thus closed the interesting exercises of the forenoon. At their close, Pres- 
ident Swain announced that he had the pleasure to state that in front of the 
large oak, in the neighborhood of Dr. Caldwell's monument, the President of 
the United States would then be pleased to receive the calls of his friends, 
males and females, and especially the latter. 

President Buchanan was then, in company with the Marshals and Faoulty, 
conducted to the place of reception, and was instantly surrounded by a large 

11-3 College Record. [September 

assemblage of ladies and gentlemen. The President must have had quite a 
pleasant time from the many fair ladies who were introduced to him, and with 
whom he had a friendly shaking of hands. But one fair one was kissed, 
however, and that one, a very pretty young lady, deputized to kiss all the rest 
for him. 


The Chapel was again filled at an early hour in the afternoon, and at 3 \ 
o'clock President Buchanan again entered and took his seat upon the stage. 
A similar greeting to that of the morning again welcomed him. Shortly after, 
the remaining orators of the Graduating Class were announced. President 
Swain announced the first speaker in order. 

Francis Doughty Stockton, Statesville. Subject — Die Deutsche Sprache. 
This was an address on the beauty, philosophy, and utility of the German lan- 
guage. It was handsomely delivered, and reflects much credit on Prof. Smith. 
The musicians, who were all Germans, appeared delighted. Their stand was 
directly over the stage. A curtain was drawn before them, but they could not 
resist their curiosity, and while some drew aside the curtain, others again rose 
on tip-toe to gaze on the speaker. To them it was an uncommon treat. At 
the- close of the address the liveliest tune we had yet heard was played, and 
encored by the audience. President Buchanan also complimented the young- 
gentleman on his manner of delivery and the beauty of his subject. In con- 
versation with this young gentleman, he awarded the merit of his knowledge 
of German to the noble, untiring exertions of Prof. Smith, his instructor. 

The next subject was Benedict Arnold. By Elijah Benton Withers, Caswell. 
The speaker said that when Robert Emmet, vindicating his character before the 
tribunal which condemned him as a traitor, requested of the world the charity 
of its silence, he asked for what has never been granted, either deserving or 
undeserving. As a member of that great family, he claimed the right to com- 
ment upon the character of Arnold. Born of parents having a great dissimi- 
larity in their characters, he reproduced and presented all the traits of an 
outcast and drunken father. Every restraint being removed, he became a 
slave to the gratification of his base passions. But Arnold was too mean to be 
a drunkard. The revolution found him a bankrupt in character as well as 
fortune. No scheme was too desperate for his undertaking — -no prospect of 
success too infamous to be attempted. Thus he attempted a career which ob- 
tained for him an infamous reputation, In a military career, it must be con- 
fessed that he exhibited great traits. The speaker then referred to Arnold's 
attack on Quebec, the honors he received at Philadelphia, when great and 
6mall, rich and poor, public and private, all vied with each other in honoring 
the hero of Saratoga. Congress paid its acknowledgments to him, and even 
Washington congratulated him upon his success. But they knew not what 
deep plots he was meditating. It is characteristic of Americans to applaud 
before they think, but when the truth is once known, the current returns with 
redoubled violence on the deceiver. At this very time, he was forming the 
plot which gained for himself the name which has made him the despised and 

1859.] College Record. 117 

outcast of every country. Arnold was the recipient of trust only to betray. 
Strange as it may seem, Arnold has found his apologists. Arnold was ona 
that never had a sympathetic throb for any. He lingered many years in utter 
contempt, and universally disgraced. He dragged out a miserable life in un- 
envied opulence and rank, and died an object of scorn and contempt — a man 
of abilities, without integrity or character. 

Political Influence of Educated Men. Charles Washington McClammy, Jr., 
of New Hanover. In the various spheres of public life, said the speaker, 
there is no more efficient power than cultivated intellect. It discards falsa 
theories and guards against extremes of human action. Pre-eminent among 
its fruits is the recognition of man's social nature. This recognition had re- 
futed the lone learning so valuable when philosophers taught the people. 
With us, isolation has no charms. Talents, to succeed, must be continually 
on the rack to exertion. Virtue must be stamped on it. Cultivated intellect 
and conservatism, not radicalism, is the golden mean. As in the material 
world, so in the political, the war of antagonisms must be. 


President Swain then read the Report of the Scholarship and Deportment 
of the students, as follows : 

The Senior Class consists of 86 members. [A catalogue of this Class may 
be found in the programme of Senior Speaking, published in our August No.] 

The First Distinction is awarded to Messrs. T. W. Harris, G. B. Johnston, 
W. B. Lynch, and F. D. Stockton. 

The Second to Messrs. Croom, Eure, Ferguson, Fetter, Foster, Gaines, Gill, 
B. Green, J. C. Green, McClammy, Nixon, F. C. Robbins, J. L. Bobbins, and 

The Third to Messrs. Badger, J. W. Cole, Cook, lsler, Jones, C. N. Morrow,. 
Pillow, Rogers, Sillers, Webb and Woodburn. 

The delivery of the Valedictory was devolved by lot upon Mr. G. B. John- 
ston; the Latin Salutatory upon Mr. W. B. Lynch; and the speech in German 
upon Mr. F. D. Stockton. 


Two members of this Class, Messrs. Fetter and McClammy have not been 
recorded as absent from any duty during the full collegiate term of four years, 
involving about 4,700 attendances upon the scholastic and religious exercise* 
of the Institution. Mr. Cook once absent from recitation and but four time* 
from prayers in four years. 

Mr. Isler entered Sophomore, and was not absent during three years. 

Messrs. F. C. Robbins and J. L. Robbins entered Sophomore, were never 
absent during that year, and never since but from unavoidable necessity. 

Messrs. Gill and Roberts entered Junior ; the former was not absent during 
the Junior year, and not during the Senior year after his return on the third 
day of the first term; the latter never absent when in his power to attend, 

118 College Record. [September 

The next most punctual are Messrs. Badgett, Ballard, Bustin, Coffin, Croom, 
Daniel, Dixon, Eure, Ferguson, Fleming, Gatling, Gaines, Nixon, Riddick, 
Rogers, J. Somerville, Walton, and Withers. Mr. Withers was not absent 
during the Freshman and Sophomore years, rarely during the remaining two 
years, and then for valid reasons. 

The Junior Class consists of 87 members, extending from Mr. R. B. Adams 
to Mr. W. A. Wooster, inclusive. Upon examination they were all approved, 
with the exception of seven in Chemistry, and one in the Bible. 

The First Distinction is assigned to Messrs. Pool, Royster, Strong, Wilson, 
and Wooster. 

The Second to Messrs. Battle, Bond, Brooks, Bryan, Cooper, Daniel, Fain, 
Franklin, Hale, Headen, Kelly, King, Rial, Scales and Weir. 

The Third to Messrs. Anderson, Borden, Fogle, Graham, Harden, E. S. 
Martin, and Thorpe. 

Messrs. Oglesby and Plummer were absent from the examination ; the for- 
mer on account of sickness, the latter by permission. 


Seven members of this Class, viz: Messrs. Barbee, Battle, R. E. Cooper, 
Kelly, Minims, Strong, and Thorpe have been absent from no duty during the 
year, and three of them, viz : Messrs, Battle, Kelly and Thorpe, have been 
entirely punctual during three years. Mr. W. T. Nicholson, has been four 
times absent from morning prayers and twice from recitation during three 

The next most punctual upon the roll are Messrs. Baird, Barrett, Bond, 
Borden, Brooks, Cherry, Daniel, Fain, Fogle, Pool, Rial, Royster and Wilson. 

Mr. Franklin joined Junior half advanced and has not been absent during 
the term. 

The Sophomore Class consists of 98 members, extending from W. L. Alford 
to G. M. Yancey. Upon examination they were all approved, with the excep- 
tion of four in Mathematics. 

The First Distinction was assigned to Messrs. Allen, R. S. Clark, Morehead, 
Stedman and E. E. Wright. 

The Second to Messrs. Dowd, Hobson, W. II. Johnston, Knight, Murphy, 
Simmons, Stewart and Yancey. 

The Third to Messrs. Butts, Currie, W. E. Davis, Dobbin, Foy, Lee, Light- 
foot, Marshall, Parks and Ross. 

Messrs. A. T. Bowie, Cody, Conrad, Davidson, T. H. Haughton, Jiggitts, 
J. P. Parker, E. S. Shorter, D. P. Smith, J. C. Thompson, Van Wyck and 
Ware were absent from the examination ; Mr. Coffin from that on written 
Mathematics ; and Messrs. S. H. Taylor and Walker from that on oral Mathe- 
matics ; Messrs. Everett, Pugh, Routh and S. Taylor were absent from the 
examination on Latin. 

1 1— D E P R T M E N T . 

Thirteen Sophomores, viz: Messrs. Butts, R.S.Clark, Davis, W. Davis, 
Dobbin, Foy, Halliburton, Lee, Murphy, J. Parker, Parks, Stedman and 

1859.] College Record. 119 

Stewart have not been absent during the present year ; and four of these, viz : 
Messrs. Lee, Murphy, J. Parker and Stedman have been perfectly punctual 
during two years. 

The nest most punctual were Messrs. Brodie, Bullock, Currie, Edmondson, 
Harris, Hicks, Jenkins, Johnston, Knight, Morehead, Simmons, Taylor, J. C. 
Thompson, Wesson and Wright. 

Messrs. Hunt and J. Hunt have not been absent during the present session. 

The Freshman Class consists of 88 members, extending from S. J. Andrews 
to L. P. Wheat, inclusive. Upon examination they were all approved, with 
the exception of one in Latin and Greek ; one in Greek and Mathematics ; two 
in Greek and three in Mathematics. 

The First Distinction was assigned to Messrs. Gaines, Hassell, Hinsdale, 
Patterson and Webb. 

The second to Messrs. Andrews, Bellamy, Cameron, Douglas, Fletcher, 
Mclver, J. E. Moore, T. W. Taylor and Thompson. 

The Third to Messrs. Armistead, Armstrong, Baldwin, Bason, Biggs, Rus- 
sell, Skinner, Staton, S. W. Smith, Varner and Walker. 

Messrs. Barnes, Cherry, Hardeman and McCotter, were absont from the 
examination on Algebra and Geometry ; and Messrs. Bond, Hall, and Sutton 
from that on Geometry. 


Ten members of this Class, viz : Messrs. Andrews, Battle, Douglas, Fetter, 
Hassell, Parker, J. Parker, Patterson, Polk and M. Russell have been absent 
from no duty during the present year. Mr. Yv r heat did not return at the be- 
ginning of the second term until the close of the fourth day ; with this excep- 
tion, he has been punctual during theyear. Mr. Iladly was absent four times 
from prayers, once from recitation, and three times from Divine worship. Mr. 
W. J. Smith has not been absent from any duty during the present term. 


The Degree of Master of Arts in regular course is conferred upon — 
William F. Alderman, Goldsboro', Daniel McDougald, Harnett, 
William Bingham, Orange, Rory McNair, Carthage, 

Henry R. Bryan, Raleigh, Dougald McNair, 

Bryan Croom, Montgomery, Ala. A. Haywood Merritt, Chatham, 

Clement Dowd, Carthage, E. Graham Morrow, Chapel Hill, 

John E. Dugger, Warrenton, Thomas J. Robinson, 

John W. Graham, Chapel Hill, Samuel P. Smith, Charlotte, 

John W. Graves, Caswell, Robert H. Tate, New Hanover, 

Robert T. Hall, Wadesboro', John T. Taylor, Granville, 

Thomas C. Hall, Anson, Wm. L. Treadwell, Memphis, Tenn., , 

J. B. Killebrew, Tennessee, Rev. J. Cooper Waddell, Selma, Ala., 

Adolphus A. Lawrence, Iredell, Stuart White, M. D., New York, 

William J. Love, Wilmington, Forney George, Columbus, N. G, 

Robert R. Johnston, Asheville, William J. Saunders, Raleigh, 

J. B. Batchelor, Warrenton. 

120 College Record. [September 

The Honorary Degree of A. M. is conferred upon Robert R. Heath, of 

The Degree of Batchelor of Science is conferred upon H. K. Burgwyn, R. 
E. Lester, G. W. Goza, R. C. Martin, Jr., William Simms and R. N. Simms. 

The Honorary Degree of LL. D. is conferred upon his Excellency James 
Buchanan, President of the United States of North America. 

The Honorary Degree of LL. D. is conferred upon Hon. Mitchell King, of 
Charleston, S. C, and of D. D. upon Rt. Rev. Bishop Otey, of Tennessee. 

The exercises of the Graduating Class closed with the Valedictory by Mr. 
George Burgwyn Johnston, of Edenton. The Valedictorian performed his part 
in an earnest and touching manner. He seemed to fully comprehend the mean- 
ing of the words, " Farewell ,Farewell," as he addressed them to his late in- 
structors, his fellow-students, and at last to his beloved classmates. 

Prof. Hubbard then pronounced the Benediction, and the Graduates passed 
from the Chapel never again to enter it as students. May their way through 
life be unclouded by storm and unalloyed by bitterness. 

At night the Grand Ball of the season came off. It was completely success- 
ful, and reflects great credit upon Messrs. John R. Bowie, P. M. Butler, Wm. 
A. Cherry, Horace Ferrand and John W. Mebane, who had beet elected Ball 
Managers during the past session. The Supper, the good order which charac- 
terized the occasion, and the accommodating spirit of the Managers, plainly 
ehow that the students made no mistake when they selected these gentlemen. 

We cannot close this account without thanking the Marshals, as far as we 
are concerned, for the dignity with which they presided, the exact manner in 
which they conducted the Processions, and the marked order which they pre- 
served in the Chapel, notwithstanding its limited dimensions. 

We are sure the Graduating Class of 1859 will never regret having elected 
Mr. Thomas W. Davis as their Chief Marshal with Messrs. S. B. Alexander, 
Charles Bruce, Wm. T. Nicholson and Vernon H. Vaughan, for his assistants. 

The Richmond Armony Band, and the Fayetteville Cornet Band, and the 
Wilmington Light Infantry with which it came, added much to the interest of 

Thus ended the Commencement of 1859. May the one of 1860 be such a one. 

18S9.} Editor*' Table. 121 



We now present to the public an engraving of Hon. Aaron V. Brown, late 
Post Master General, who, though not a North Carolinian, was so intimately 
connected with the Universit} 7 ' in youth, and so honored it in old age, that we 
think no likeness, more appropriate, could be procured now that he is dead. 

Gov. Brown was born on the 15th of August, 1795, in Brunswick county, 
Va. His father, a staunch patriot in the Revolutionary days, was worthy of 
even such a son. His mother, Elizabeth Melton, was his father's second wife, 
and a native of Northampton county, N. C. 

Except in the simplest elements, Gov. Brown was educated in this State. He 
was sent when young to Westrayville Academy, in the county of Nash, in 
order to be placed under the care of Mr. John Bobbitt, one of the best scholars 
and teachers of the time. After continuing here for two years, he was trans- 
ferred, in the year 1812, to the University of North Carolina. He graduated 
at this institution in 1814 in a large class, of which Senator Mangum and ex- 
Governor Manly were also members. His ability as an orator, even while 
young, is attested by the fact that, though in scholarship he ranked only among 
the third honor men, the duty was assigned to him by the faculty, and con- 
firmed by the trustees, of delivering the valedictory oration on commencement 
day, and the service was performed in a manner which produced the most 
striking impression on the large assembly then in attendance. The collegiate 
career of but few young men is marked by incidents of sufficient importance 
to be recited in a notice like this. Industry in preparing for, and punctuality 
in attending at, the hour of recitation, as well as the most cheerful conformity 
to the rules of the institution, were the most striking characteristics of his 
educational course. 

In 1815 he removed, with his parents, to Tennessee, commenced the study 
of the law, and soon became a partner of the late President Polk, who had 
graduated at this University. 

Governor Brown attended closely to his professional duties, and was very 
successful until 1839, when he was elected a member of Congress. He was 
several times re-eleeted until 1845, when he resigned. While in Congress he 
seems to have been an active member, taking part in nearly all the great ques- 
tions of the day. 

On retiring from Congress in 1845, he was elected Governor of Tennessee, 
and filled the gubernatorial chair with dignity and ability. 

In 1857 he was appointed Post Master General by President Buchanan, 
which office he hold until the 1 1th of March last, when he was taken from the 
cares of earth. 

122 Editors Table. [September 

The following resolutions of the Philanthropic Society were deferred from 
our last issue that they might appear with the engraving and foregoing sketch : 

"Whereas, It has seemed good to an all-wise and inscrutable Providence, to 
remove from the sphere of usefulness and honor to his country and his age, 
Hon. Aaron V. Brown, and more particularly to afflict us with the loss of his 
living example, we, remembering the brightness of his fame and the spotless 
integrity of his character, whilst we bow with Christian resignation to the will 
of God, are moved to 

Resolve, That, though locked in the chill embrace of death, he still possesses 
the highest respect and admiration of the Philanthropic Society, mingled with 
unfeigned sorrow for his untimely end. 

Resolved, That we tender our truest sympathy to the widowed wife and 
family of the deceased, and join with them in the precious hope that He who 
gave has but taken to himself. 

Resolved, That in testimony of our deep distress, we wear the accustomed 
badge of mourning for thirty days. 

Resolved, That a copy of these resolutions be sent to the bereaved family, 
and to the Cabinet of the United States ; and that they be published in the 
" National Intelligencer," the "North Carolina Standard," and the " Univer- 
sity Magazine." GEO. P. BRYAN, 1 Cj 







E. J. 


S. H. 

»«■ A 1 



"Here he is at last," said Tom Sturdy; as Sam Soaring opened our club- 
room door and walked in, making a low obeisance to the crowd. " I was on 
the point of proposing to send Ben in search of you." 

" I am rather inclined to think," said Quiz, " that Ben would have been like 
the man's cheeses in the fairy tale." 

" How was that ?" inquired Ben. 

" Poor fellow, how I pity your ignorance! Have 3'ou never heard of it? 
Well, I must relieve your curiosity. You must know that a long time ago, a 
man was walking up a steep hill with three cheeses, one in each hand, and 
one on his head. Now, it so happened that the cheese on his head conceived 
the bright idea of slipping from its resting place, and going on a voyage of dis- 
covery among the bushes on the hill-side. No sooner said than done — off went 
the cheese, and rolled into the bushes. The owner was very loth to scramble 
among the briars, so he determined to send one of his remaining cheeses in 
quest of its brother ; and off he sent it, but it did not return. Presently he 
sent the last one, but strange to relate, none of them ever returned. Being 
frolicking cheeses, it is very possible that they preferred being free, to being mas- 
ticated ; and so remained where they were. Thus, I think, Ben would have 

"Was that an anecdote, or an illustration, or a lengthy pun — my judgment 
is weak to-night ?" said Ben. 
• " Thy judgment is ever weak, my friend"— 

1859.] Editors Table. 123 

" Stop, boys — I want to hear Sam's story first; and then we'll to our regu- 
lar business of abusing everybody but ourselves," interposed Tom. " 'Now, 
Sam, we're ready for you." 

Sam, thus called upon, drew from the bottom of one of his coat-tails a neatly 
folded manuscript, and placing it on the table before him, began : 


" Who does not gladly welcome the hour that brings him release from stu- 
dies, breaks from his arms the shackles of confinement, and bids the spirit and 
the body enjoy their freedom ? Such were my thoughts, as seated in a hack, 
I quietly awaited the signal of departure. Presently the welcome shout was 
heard — " all ready !" — crack went the whip, and crack, crack, crack went the 
whips of all the drivers of all the hacks that were bearing away many of the 
crowd, who had contributed to the gaiety and the enjoyment of Commence- 
ment. Oi± flew the hacks, up flew the dust into nose, ears, and eyes, and down 
flew the heat from its home in the sun, to bear us company. Despite all the 
heat, dust, and laughter incident to a long ride, a dry road, and a crowd of 
ladies, I was soon absorbed in thought. My Junior year was just completed ; 
another Commencement, and my college days would be over for ever : then 
came the ghosts of my wasted hours, to haunt me. Already I saw the dim 
phantasms hovering near me ; already one of them stood frowningly before 
me ; I fell upon my knees to implore his pardon for my remissness, when a 
pinch and a loud burst of laughter, told me I had been asleep, and had played 
the fool. In my excessive fear of the frowning ghost, I had actually fallen on 
my knees ; my beaver, the badge of my Seniority, had tumbled into the lap 
of a lady in front of me ; and when I opened my eyes in consequence of the 
pinch, I saw my beaver in possession of the lap of a pretty girl, and myself 
kneeling humbly before her. 

"Thus aroused from my re very and slumber, I regained my seat, rubbed 
my eyes, and looked around upon my fellow travellers. There were five of us 
in the hack — two were very pretty, very lively young ladies ; another lady 
who might be the mother, or the aunt, of the young ones, and who exercised 
a very vigilant care over her charges, kept her face behind a thick veil, osten- 
sibly to keep out the dust, but really, as I thought, to hide her ugliness — I 
learned to dislike the old lady, and will soon tell you why. A middle-aged 
gentleman, whom I took to be the husband of the middle-aged lady, was riding 
with the driver, that he might watch the beautiful scenery ; and if I may form 
an opinion from the frequency with which he called upon the plague to take 
the dust and heat, he was having a shabby time of it. Much good did his 
eyes do him, when the dust was flying as thick as Egyptian grasshoppers over 
the road and woods as far as sight could reach. 

" After my romantic behavior, the young ladies needed no assurance that I 
was a ' funny soul," and one of them whispered to me to introduce myself ; 
and when I had obeyed, she introduced her companions and herself. The 
younger portion of us immediately began a conversation, very pleasant, and 
very lively, but interrupted occasionally by some remark of the aunt : " Lucy, 
dear, pray put down your veil, you will be terribly dusted before you get to the de- 

124 Editors' Table. [September 

pot." Now I was totally opposed to any such measure ; for Lucy had a pretty 
face and sparkling eyes, and I wanted to look at them. Presently the old 
aunt would again cry out : " Well, I declare, Mollie, I'll have to shut my eyes, 
and let you kiss Mr. Soaring." Mollie was not at all to blame for the prox- 
imity of our faces ; for when the hack jolted, of course she was thrown for- 
ward, and I could not resist the temptation of leaning forward too. I need 
not say how devoutly I hoped that the old aunt's prediction would come to 

" I kept with my new-made acquaintances till our roads separated ; nor did 
I leave them then till the middle-aged gentleman had promised to bring the 
young ladies and himself to the Pilot Mountain by the 23d of June ; the mid- 
dle-aged lady declared outright that she could not come by any manner of 
means — a piece of information that highly delighted me, although a tear rolled 
down my cheeks — as she thought, from sorrow, but as I Jcnew, because some 
dust had flown into my eyes. 

" I need not tell you how I passed a part of the vacation at home, reading, 
writing, and studying ; but will take you sans ceremonie to the Pilot Mountain, 
seat you in the parlor at Gillam's hotel, and introduce you to a pair of pretty 
girls, a benevolent looking middle-aged gentleman, and a very handsome young 
gentleman. The ladies are Miss Mollie and Miss Lucy ; the old gentleman is 

Mr. B , and the young gentleman is — myself. The proposition to ascend 

the Mountain has been already made, and seconded, and agreed upon. I am 
to act as marshal of the occasion, to give assistance when, and to whom, it is 
needed, and to make myself useful generally. 

" Those who have visited the Pilot know how diflicult, and tiresome, and in 
some places, how dangerous is the ascent. For some distance before reaching 
the pinnacle, the Mountain is very steep and rocky — so much so, that we had 
to grasp the rocks with ou 1 * hands, and thus assist ourselves. Of course, the la- 
dies constantly needed my help — now Miss Mollie would sing out, " Come help 

me, Mr. Soaring !" and then Miss Lucy would call me to her side. Mr. B , 

about thirty yards below, would puff a while, and crawl a while, and then puff 
again. Miss Mollie was in advance, and I had just helped her over a large 
rock, when Miss Lucy called me. Quick at the command of beauty I hasten- 
ed to obey ; but, unfortunately, my foot slipped, and away I tumbled over the 
big rock, away went my beaver in front of me — down, down we rolled until a 

little tree caught me, and Mr. B caught my beaver. I picked up myself, 

and Mr. B picked up my beaver. Both of us looked considerably the 

worse for wear, and I felt so ; and my poor hat could no longer lay claim to 
being one of Beebe's best. I had the satisfaction, however, of knowing that I 
had ruined my clothes in a noble cause — that of helping a pretty girl over a 
rock — and I verily believe that if I had broken my neck, the smile that Miss 
Lucy welcomed me with would have not only cured me, but abundantly re- 
paid me for my neck, and clothes to boot — so gallant am I, and so much I 
value beauty's approving smile. (Applause by the Club.) 

We reached the top of the pinnacle without further accident, but as all of 
you who have ever seen a book, have read and re-read descriptions of moun- 
iatfe scenery, I shall not weary yon by describing the view. 

1859.] Editors Table. 125 

"How beautiful !" said Miss Lucy. 

"Perfectly charming!" said Miss Mollie, clapping lier little hands in delight. 

"I'd like to have a drink of 'water," exclaimed the unpoetioal Mr. B , 

yet panting with fatigue, and red in the face from recent exertion. 

" How unromantic you are, uncle B ," cried both the young ladies. 

" I think Mr. B is right," said I ; (you all know that however fond I 

may be of the luxuries of life, I never forget the necessaries.) " If you can 
stay your thirst a little while, you all shall have water enough. I have or- 
dered a boy to bring us a lunch up here." 

Mr. B expressed himself well pleased at this arrangement, and we all 

turned to enjoy the scene. We gazed with pleasure at the long expanse of 
forest, broken here and there with green farms and white cottages, that stretch- 
ed as far as the eye could reach. Miss Mollie broke the silence: 

" Cousin Lucy, Mr. Soaring, come give us some poetry. I will not ask uncle 
B ; he's too busy thinking of dinner." 

Miss Lucy declared that she couldn't think of a rhyme, and I assured them 
that Iliad never seen a poem in my life — ("what a whopper," said Quiz.) 
After much talking, it was at last agreed that Miss Lucy should give us a 
specimen of her poetical powers ; and, in order to gratify the girls, I ventured 
to promise some rhymes. The crowd were to separate, and at the end of half- 
an-hour, were to return to the spot we were now at, to hear our respective 
effusions. I tore a couple of blank leaves from my note-book, and handed 
them to Miss Lucy, and the crowd immediately separated. I proposed to 
escort Miss Mollie to a safe place ; but when we arrived there, I could not 
leave her ; so we had a most delightful chat, spiced with coquetry. Just, how- 
ever, as I began to fall really in love, and began to tell her so, she started 
up and exclaimed — 

" You won't have your poetry ready — go write it ; that's a good boy." 

"Farewell, then," said I, sentimentally; "you drive me from you, but I 
love you still." 

"You young folks have a strange way of thinking aloud. Is that the way 
you write poetry, Mr. Soaring — thinking aloud?" said Mr. B . 

" Ahem ! I am very busily engaged now, sir ; and if you would hear my 
verses, you must not intrude upon me." 

"That's a good creature," whispered Miss Mollie, "to save me from expo- 
sure ; now run quick, and write your poetry." 

As she said this, she bestowed on me such an approving smile, and it made 
me feel so good that I would, verily, have thrown myself from the pinnacle, 
had she ordered me. It's a good thing, club-mates, that women don't know 
the power of their smiles. 

At the expiration of half-an-hour, Mr. B called us together again. I 

stopped a moment to write the last stanza, and joined the group. Miss Lucy 
proposed that I should read my poem first, but I insisted on yielding to her 
the honor ; and at last, suffused with pretty blushes, she began : 

At last I see the earnest hope fulfilled, 
That oft in earlier days my bosom thrilled — 
That I might on this very summit stand, 

126 Editors' Tabfa [September 

And learn to venerate my father-land. 

What place can show a lovelier scene than this, 

From where the skies yon waving forest kiss. 

To where these rugged crags in grandeur rise, 

And try, nor scarce in vain, to kiss the skies? 

How many a white-washed cottage decks the scene, 

Commingling with the forest's lively green ! 

How many a field of rustling, fruitful grain 

The farmer cheers, and animates the plain ! 

How many a heart in this extended view 

Is brave and loyal, hopeful, fond and true! 

Now must I turn me with prophetic eye, 

And glance into our future history. 

Ere long that host of trees must bow their head, 

And in their place extensive cities spread ; 

Where wild beasts undisturbed now seek their prey, 

A teeming people soon must wend their way ; 

And Silence, now the only denizen, 

Must fly before the busy hum of men. 

I know, I feel it, that a glorious fate 

Is yet awaiting our belov'd State ; 

That she shall rise in greatness, till her name 

Becomes to men synonymous with fame. 

Scarcely were the applauses over, when a big basket made its appearance, 
followed by a negro boy, grinning for dear life. We were all too hungry to 
be very ceremonious ; so, after spreading a clean cloth over a large rock, Miss 
Mollie's little dimpled hands transferred the eatables from the basket to the 
rock, whence we soon transferred them to to a more permanent abiding-place. 

" I'm choked," said Mr. B , swallowing a large mouthful of biscuit and 

ham ; " where's the water, Pompey?" 

" In de black bottles, sir." 

" And the glasses ?" 

" Lors a messy ! I forgot 'em." 

" Well," said Mr. B , " necessity knows no law." So saying, he put 

the mouth of one of the black bottles to his mouth, and several gurgles plainly 
told of Mr. B.'s practical execution of this celebrated philosophical principle. 

"I declare this is romantic; how shall I drink?" asked Miss Mollie. 

''Do as Mr. B does. I see that he is no stranger to black bottles," I re- 

" Nor you either," said Miss Mollie, as I relieved Mr. B of the bottle, 

and hastened to appropriate its contents. 

After we had finished dinner, my poem was called for; whereupon, I mount- 
ed a rock and read as follows : 

Write us some poetry, you ask — 

As well command to speak the dumb — 

Howe'er, since beauty sets the task, 
I'll break my pen, or — write you some. 

To tell the truth, I almost broke 

My neck, by tumbling off that rock ; 
You laugh, but, ladies, 'twas no joke, 

To give my head-piece such a shock. 

1859.] Editors' Talk. 127 

My beaver, too, poor thing, is bent, 

And knocked and twisted out of shape j 

'Twas new before the accident, 
But I am glad at all to 'scape. 

However, I have been repaid 

For all my hardships, and niy care, 
By one sweet whisper from the maid. 

Now standing so demurely there.. 

Fair scenes you look abroad to find, 

To trees below, and sky above ; 
But beauty's nearer, to my mind, — 

Tis living beauty that I love. 

Right gently Nature's whispers fall, 

Each ear well pleased its music sips ; 
But I would gladly give them all, 

For one sweet word from beauty's lips. 

As we were all determined to be pleased, my effusion was well received ; 
and after a variety of pretty blushes, Miss Mollie proposed to return to tho 
Hotel. We arrived there without any accident; but as it is late I will stop, 
and leave you all to imagine my progress in love during the remainder of our 

Sam's story ceased, an expressive wink was exchanged by the other mem- 
bers of the Club, and three long, hearty cheers burst from the throat of each — 
even of Tim Trembler. 

"No more business to-night, boys," said Ben Short. " I've got some whis- 
key, sugar, and water in my room — let's adjourn there, and have a jollification 
over Sam." 

The lights were accordingly put out, and all of us, even Tim, adjourned to 
Ben's room. But what thereafter happened, and how, and when each one got 
to bed, the Club-books say not. 

Our Prize System.— Below will be found the particulars of our prize sys- 
tem : — We offer a prize of $30, for the best article contributed to the Magazine 
during our term, by any Student of the University, Editors excepted ; and one 
of $20 for the second best, likewise contributed. These prizes are to consist 
either of Gold Medals or Selections of Books, to be determined by the choice 
of the successful competitors. They are to be presented in Girard Hall, during 
the next Commencement Exercises, by the Governor of the State. The com- 
mittee to decide upon the merits of each, will consist of three prominent citi- 
zens of North Carolina— one to be selected by the Editors of each Society, 
and the third by the two thus chosen. These articles may be written on any 
subject consistent with the character of the Magazine — manuscript written on 
one side only preferred. 

Correction. — The Honorary Degree of " LL. D.," instead of " D. I>.," was 
conferred upon Rt. Rev. Bishop Otey. of Tennessee. See page 119. 

l!8§ Tributes of Rexpcct. 


Philanthropic Hall, July 22d,, 1859. 

Whereas, God in his mysterious wisdom hath taken from us a friend whose 
life was just blooming into manhood, and whose past career gave promise of 
an honorable and useful future ; therefore be it 

Resolved, That, though in the death of James McQueen, we recognize the 
hand of him who is the Father of Mercies, we must yet mourn that the stroke 
should have fallen upon one so dear to his associates, and so respected by all 
who kuew him. 

Resolved, That we tender our warmest sympathy to the bereaved family in 
this hour of sadness. We know that theirs is that grief in which " a stranger 
intermeddieth not ;" but we too have known him, and we too desire to shed 
the tear of affection over his untimely grave. May they look for consolation 
to Him who hath said, " Call upon me in the hour of trouble." May they be 
comforted with the hope of meeting their loved one in that better land, "where 
God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." 

Resolved, That a copy of these resolutions be sent to the family of our de- 
ceased friend, and that they be published in the Fayetteville Observer, Daily 
North Carolinian, North Carolina Presbyterian, and the University Magazine. 

E. T. McKETHAN, ") 
J. H. DOBBIN, ) F 

Dialectic Hall, Aug. 12, 1859. 

Whereas, It hath pleased the ever just and righteous God to remove from 
the scenes of earth to the solemn realities of an untried state, Carma Lane, 
lately a highly respected member of our body ; therefore, be it 

Resolved, That while we recognize the hand of " Him that sits upon the 
throne on high" in the death of our esteemed fellow-member, and while we are 
" taught thence in humbler reverence to bow before the Holy One," yet we 
can but shed a tear of sorrow over the new-made grave of one whose hopes, 
once so fair, have been lately blasted forever. 

Resolved, That during his short, but honorable career at the University, his 
industry and perseverance, as a student, were worthy of imitation, while his 
excellent qualities, kindness of heart, unstained morals, and manly bearing, 
won for him the esteem and admiration of all who knew him. 

Resolved, That while we know that for the anguish caused by the death of 
those beloved, there is no solace but Christian resignation ; and no balm but 
in the soft effusion of that spirit which can say, "not as I will but as thou wilt," 
still we would truly and sincerely sympathize with the family of the deceased 
reminding them that while they mourn for a cherished son and brother, we 
lament a warm and devoted friend. 

Resolved, That a copy of these resolutions be sent to the family of the de- 
ceased, and to the Biblical Recorder, Fayetteville Observer, Raleigh Standard 
and University Magazine, with the request to publish them. 


ZTuS/iframaliaguerreatype -By H.BHa]l IT 


trofe , c j a op of H22 Lj-ltw lahtwiage .^md zjter^ltvre itt tb~e 

-rrNrvTiosTi'-y or jstorts Carolina.. 



iMi ©ise 





3ioi. -9. Ocfobef, 1850. tfo. 3- 


It is about a century since the causes which gave rise to the War of 
the Regulation excited commotions in the northern district, and especially 
in the interior portions, of North Carolina. In September, 1770, the 
Regulators expelled the bench and the bar from Hillsborough, occupied 
the court house, possessed themselves of the records, organized a mock 
tribunal, demolished the house, and inflicted merited chastisement upon 
the register of the county of Orange, committed other excesses, and were 
for a time dominant throughout the country, from the Neuse to the Ca- 
tawba. The Battle of Alamance was fought on the 16th May, 1771, and 
excited no inconsiderable degree of attention in the sister provinces, and 
in the mother country. Until very recently, however, no attempt has 
been made to compile a history of these events, and no portion of ou? 
annals has been less understood, or the subject of greater misapprchensioa 
and misrepresentation. 

The late Dr. Mitchell, shortly after his appointment to a professor- 
ship in the University, had his attention attracted to the subject, and 
collected valuable materials for its elucidation- — printed, written, and tradi- 
tional. These were subsequently transferred to the Rev. Eli W. Ca- 
rutiiers, and, in connection with the fruit of his own long continued, 
patient and diligent researches, were, in 1842, given to the public, in his 
valuable work on the life and character of Rev. David Caldwell, D. D. 

This volume, in due time, received the favorable notice of Mr. Ban- 
croft, the American Historian, and the subsequent residence of the latter 

ISO War of the Regulation. [October 

at the Court of St. James, enabled him to add very materially to the stock 
of information which had been obtained on. this side of the Atlantic. Mr. 
Bancroft's summary, founded in a great degree upon record evidence, 
affords ample confirmation of the view which Caruthers had presented 
of the character of the prominent persons who figured in the contest, and of 
the causes which produoed the rebellion. Recent examinations of records, 
which had hitherto escaped observation, have placed it in our power to • 
supply additional illustrations. A portion of these, which have not merely 
never been printed, but discovered in files which had not been opened 
during the last half century, will now be exhibited for the first time. 

The materials for the composition of a history of the Regulation, at 
present accessible, if not ample, are very considerable. Fifty years ago 
comparatively little was known upon the subject, andit is not until very 
recently that such an amount of knowledge has been obtained, as to enable 
the historian to present a clear, continuous, and reliable narrative of the 
leading incidents. 

In addition to contemporaneous notices, gleaned from English and, 
American newspapers and magazines, we have two histories, written and 
published — one in 1770, the other in 1771' — which set forth the leading 
facts in which Herman Husband was a participant, from the beginning 
of the rebellion, until within a few months of the Battle of Alamance. 

Of the more important of these publications — "An Impartial Relation of 
the First Rise and Cause of the Present Difficulties in Public Affairs in 
the Province of North Carolina," but a single perfect copy is supposed to 
be extant. It is preserved among the collection of the Rev. Dr. Hawks, 
the Historian of North Carolina, and exhibits evidence on the title page 
of its having been at one time the property of General Thomas Person, 
of Regulation, as well as Revolutionary, notoriety. The pamphlet was 
written by Herman Husband, and published anonymously and without 
imprint in 1770. No printer in North Carolina would have ventured ' 
such a publication during the arbitrary administration of Governor Tryon. 
It is- a neat octavo, of about 100 pages, much the greater and more valuable 
portions of which has been reproduced in the second volume of Wheel- 
er's Historical Sketches of North Carolina, pp. 301 — 330. 

The second pamphlet is entitled, "A Fan for Fanning and a Touch- 
stone to Tryon ; containing an impartial account of the rise and progress 
of the so much talked of Regulation in North Carolina. By Regulus. 
Boston — Printed and Sold at the Printing-office, opposite the seat of Wil- 
liam Vassal, Esq., at the head of Queen Street, 1771." The only 
original copies of this pamphlet, of which we have any knowledge, belong 
to Mr. Bancroft and Col. Force. It was republished some years since, 
through the agency of Col. Wheeler, in the North Carolina Standard 

1859.] War of the Regulation. 131 

and the Greensborough Patriot, and was, during the last year, reproduced 
in the pages of the University Magazine. 

Governor Tryon's Letter Book, recently copied for the State, .from the 
original in the Library of Harvard University, supplies very copious il- 
lustrations of the view in which the rebellion was regarded and represent- 
ed by the royal government. 

The pages of Williamson and Martin may be consulted with advan- 
tage. The former, though ordinarily the more meagre and less reliable 
authority of the two, owing to his residence in the northern district, ex- 
hibits in various instances the more accurate account of the remote, as well 
as the immediate, causes of the rebellion. Both wrote under great mis- 
conception with respect to the extent of country in which the commotions 
prevailed, and the character of .the insurgents ; and especially towards the 
close of the contest. 

A very brief reference to the previous history of the province may be 
necessary to render subsequent details intelligible. 

In 1729, the Lords Proprietors, with the exception of Lord Carteret, 
surrendered Carolina to the Crown. He, with a shrewdness which was 
characteristic, yielded the sovereignty, but retained the soil. The charters 
of Charles II conveyed to the regal proprietors seven and a half degrees 
of latitude, extending from the southern boundary of Virginia, 86° 30' on 
the north, to the 29th parallel on the south, and from the Atlantic on the 
east to the Pacific on the west. 

In 1744, George II, by the Great Deed of Grant, conveyed to George, 
Lord Carteret, nearly a degree of latitude, (56 nautical, or 60 statute 
miles,) the northern boundary of which was the southern boundary of 
Virginia, and the southern, the parallel line 35° 34'. This line began on 
the sea shore, near the house of Thomas Wallis, ran thence due west 
something more than nine miles north of Bath, almost directly through 
Washington, some distance north of Snow Hill, in Green, and a little 
north of Smithfield, in Johnston. It constitutes at the present time the 
southern boundary of Chatham, Randolph, Davidson, Bowan and Iredell, 
may be traced about four miles north of Lincolnton, and near the divid- 
ing line between Rutherford and McDowell. As represented on Cooke's 
Map, it would, if extended to Tennessee, be almost conterminous with the 
southern boundary of Buncombe, in a direct line with Waynesville, and 
approximate very closely the northern boundary of Cherokee. 

The Grant ordinarily spoken of as the Granville Patent,. covered quite 
two-thircls of the present State of North Carolina. In 1667, it was divid- 
ed into thirteen of the twenty-nine counties, and contained two-thirds of 
the taxable inhabitants in the province. Entries for land within its bor- 
ders were made in "the Granville Office," while all .titles for land eouth 

132 War of the Regulation, [October 

of the Granville line were derived immediately from tlie Crown. The I 
Granville Office was closed from 1765 to 1774, and no settler during that 
period was able to obtain a title to the premises he occupied. It was 
re-opened in the latter year, and continued open until the Revolution. In 
the trial of the suit instituted about the beginning of the century, for this 
immense tract of country, the title of Earl Granville was admitted to 
have been incontestibie, as late as the 12th February, 1776. The suit was 
decided against him by Judge Potter in 1806, in the Circuit Court of 
the United States, was removed by writ of error to the Supreme Court 
of the United States, and owing to the death of the plaintiff's counsel, 
Philip Barton Key, and the subsequent death of the Earl, was, in 1817, 
stricken from the docket, for the want of a prosecution bond. 

Orange county was erected in 1752. It was bounded north by the Vir- 
ginia, and south by the Granville, line, and extended from Neuse river on 
the east to Anson on the west. At the beginning, and nearly to the close, 
of the Regulation, (1770.) Guilford, Chatham, Rockingham and a consid- 
erable portion of Wake were included within the boundaries of Orange. 
Randolph, Caswell and Person were not carved out of it until after the 
adoption of the State constitution. Alamance was created in 1848. The 
Regulators were less numerous within the present boundaries of Orange 
than in any other portion of the original county. xVlamance, Guilford, 
and Randolph were their strong holds. 

The white population of the province at the beginning of Governor 
Tryon's administration was about 180,000. Slaves and free persons of 
color may have numbered 40,000. All free males of the age of sixteen 
years and upwards were taxable. The free polls were equal in number to 
one-fourth of the free population, or half the number of free males, 45,000. 
The slaves given in for taxation ought to have been, but probably were 
not, more than equal in number to half the slave population, or 20,000. 
Computing six persons to a family, the number of white families may be 
estimated at 30,000. 

The public debt, in outstanding bills of credit, is stated by William- 
son to have amounted to £75,032 4s. 6d. These were a lawful tender 
at the rate of 183£ to 100. The sterling value was in the proportion of 
two to one. The sinking fund was a poll tax of one shilling, and a duty 
of four pence per gallon on imported wines and spirits. The public debt 
to be met substantially by a poll tax, was about equal to £2 10s. on each 
head of a family. 

The quit rents of those residing within the boundaries of the Granville 
Patent were payable to his Lordship's agent, and in the southern district 
at the office of the Crown. The former owed semi-allegiance to Lord 
Granville, and may well be supposed to have been regarded and treated 

1859.] War of (he Regulation. 135 

with, less favor than the immediate tenant;; of the King. Such tfbs un- 
doubtedly the case. 

From the date of '-'the great deed of grant," in 1744, to the dawn of the 
Revoiution, in 1774, the inequality of representation, the great extent of 
the -western counties, difficulties in procuring titles to land, frauds prac- 
tised by Lord Granville's deputies, superadded to the extortions and 
peculations of the crown officers, were unceasing subjects of complaint, 
throughout two-thirds of the northern district. 

As early as 1756, we find Lord Granville writing to his agent, 
Francis Corbin, as follows : " Great and frequent complaints are trans- 
mitted to me cf the persons you employ to receive entries and make sur- 
veys in the back counties. It is their extortions, and not the regular fees 
of office, which is the cause of clamor from my tenants. Insinuations are 
made, too, as if these extortions were connived at by my agents ; for oth- 
ei-wise, it is said, they could net be committed so repeatedly and so bare- 

In 1759, a company of ten or fifteen men from Halifax crossed tho 
Chowan river, proceeded to the house of Corbin, some miles below Eden- 
ton, made him their prisoner, and carried him, in the night, to Enfield. 
He was detained for some days, until he entered into a bond, with eight 
sureties, in the sum of eight thousand pounds, to produce his books within 
three weeks, and return all the money he had received in excess of the 
regular fees to which he was entitled. Instead of producing the books 
within the stipulated time, he instituted suit against four of the rioters. 
The defendants refused to give bail, and were committed to prison. The 
indignant and enraged populace cut down the jail door on the following 
day, and liberated the prisoners. Corbin, a short time thereafter, dis- 
missed the suit and paid the costs. Such were the premonitory symptoms 
of the Regulation. 

In a letter from Governor Tryon, dated 4th July, 1767, to the Earl 
of Shelburn, he states that " upon a medium, the sheriffs have embezzled 
more than one-half the public monies ordered to be raised and collected 
by them. It is estimated that the sheriffs' arrears amount to forty thou- 
sand pounds proclamation money, not five thousand of which will possibly 
ever come into the Treasury; as in many instances, the sheriffs and their 
securities are either insolvent, or retreated out of the province." 

The Stamp Act received the royal signature, on the 25 March, 1765. 
It contained fifty-five sections, and embraced in its multifarious provisions, 
a range and extent of exactions rarely apprehended in our day. No one 
of the thirteen provinces was more unanimously opposed to it than North 
Carolina, and nowhere was this opposition more manifest, and dooided, 
than throughout the boundaries of the Granville Patent. 

134 War vj the Reyulation. [October 

Every species of instrument by which property, real or personal, might 
be conveyed, every written evidence of debt, every paper used in com- 
mercial transactions in the commercial marts, or in neighborhood traffic, 
was subject to onerous impositions. 

Among the most odious exactions were taxes upon knowledge. The 
duties upon newspapers and pamphlets were not merely greater in amount 
than the cost of such publications at present, but so great, that if levied 
now, would in a twelve-month limit the issues of the periodical press to a 
third of the present number, and convert the newspaper, almost a neces- 
sity of life, into a luxury, to be enjoyed only by the rich. 

Every pamphlet or paper containing half a sheet or less, was charged 
with a cent. If larger than half a sheet, and not greater than a whole 
sheet, two cents. Pamphlets and papers larger than a sheet, and not ex- 
ceeding six sheets in quarto, or twenty sheets in folio, a quarter of a dol- 
lar for every sheet of any kind of paper contained in each printed copy. 
Every advertisement in a newspaper, half a dollar. Counting house al- 
manacs, four, and pamphlet almanacs, eight cents each. College diplomas 
ten dollars. 

The duties on every paper used in legal proceedings, declaration, plea, 
rejoinder, affidavit, &c, See., must inevitably have closed the courts of 
justice to ordinary suitors. 

The scarcity of a circulating medium, if the people had not risen en 
masse to oppose it, would have rendered the enforcement of the Act ab- 
solutely impossible. There was no straw to make brick. Chief Justice 
Hasell, a zealous and enlightened loyalist, wrote to Governor Tryon 
from Salisbury, under date of the 25th April, 1767, that "in the progress 
of his circuit, he found the inhabitants of the back country quiet, but not 
one advocate for the stamp duty, and scarce any specie circulating among 
them." Less than a year thereafter (2d February, 1768,) we find Gov- 
ernor Tryon writing to the Earl Shelburn as follows : " I shall take the 
liberty, my Lord, to represent to you two or three causes of the inconve- 
nience this country is under, for the want of a greater medium of trade ; 
The distresses the public in general, and many families in particular, ex- 
perience, proceed in some measure, from the receivers of the public taxes 
being frequently under an obligation to distrain for the taxes to be levied 
in support of the expenses of government. These effects put up to sale, 
cannot always purchase money, from its scarcity, sufficient to answer the 
taxes demanded ; yet, perhaps by the sale, the owner will be greatly dis- 
tressed, if not ruined." 

The Stamp Act, though oppressive in the number and amount of its 
exactions, was not unwise in principle. It would have operated with com- 
parative equality upon all sections of the province, and upon all classes of 

1859.] War of the Regulation. 135 

the community. The maritime and more opulent districts would have 
yielded much the larger proportion of revenue to the royal exchequer. 
The merchant, the planter, and the capitalist, would have been taxed in 
a ratio corresponding with the extent of their operations. The poor 
would less frequently have felt the pressure, and been touched with a 
lighter hand. 

The provincial system of taxation was as unwise as it was oppressive, 
and it was oppressive in a degree not ordinarily understood, because never 
experienced by the masses, since the Revolution. It was unequal in its 
effect on different sections of the country, and not less unequal in its op- 
eration upon individuals in the same section. 

The maritime districts were populous and wealthy as compared with 
the interior; the southwestern especially, as contrasted with the north- 
western portion of the province. With the exception: of a small revenue, 
derived from imported liquors, the expenses of the government were de- 
frayed by a poll tax. The poorest man, not absolutely a pauper, contrib- 
uted the same amount with the richest, and in all countries, at all times, 
the poor and those in moderate circumstances constitute the great numeri- 
cal majority. 

The same inequality prevailed in relation to quit rents. Three shil- 
lings sterling (seventy-five cents) were paid to the King in the southern, 
and to Lord Granville in the northern, tier of counties, on every hun- 
dred acres of land, without respect to improvements, situation, or fertility. 

It will be easy to illustrate the oppression endured by the Regulator, by 
a comparison of the relative amount of taxes paid by a freeholder in 1769 
and 1859. Take the case of the head of a family of six persons, with a free- 
hold of 1,000 acres, worth, what few freeholds were worth at that day, a 
dollar an acre. All males then above the age of 16 paid poll tax ; the 
range is now narrowed to between 21 and 45. The proportion of polls in a 
family was more than 2 to 6 ; at present, 1£ to 6. On the 21st June, 1768, 
Governor Tryon wrote to a committee of Regulators as follows : " As you 
want to be satisfied what is the amount of the tax for the public service, I 
am to inform you that it is seven shillings a taxable, besides the county 
and parish taxes, the particulars of which I will give to Mr. Hunter." 
What were the rates of county taxation at that time, we have no means 
of ascertaining, and can therefore enter into no computation of compara- 
tive amounts. The quit rents on a 1000 acres of land in 1767, amounted 
to $7.50; the public tax on two polls at 873 cents each, $1.75; vestry 
tax on two polls $2 ; making the aggregate amount $11.25. At present, 
under the greatly increased rates of taxation, rendered necessary by our 
extended system of internal improvement, a freeholder, under similar cir- 
cumstances, would pay on land valued at $1,000, $2 — one and a half polls. 

18*3 War of the Regidaticm. [October 

$1.20— in all $3.20. For a quarter of a century previous to entering 
upon the construction of raihoads, the State tax of a freeholder, in like con- 
dition, would have been 60 cents on his land, and 30 cents poll tax ; in all 
about one-thirteenth of the amount required of the Regulator, ninety years 

The statements of Governor Teyon, with respect to the scarcity of 
money and the difficulty of obtaining the requisite amount to pay taxes, 
will secure credence for the following narrative. Joseph McPherson, 
who in 1819 resided near Salem, informed the late Dr. Mitchell of the Uni- 
versity, that he removed from the neighborhood of Wilmington to Chat- 
ham in 1765, fought with the Regulators at the Battle of Alamance, and 
at the beginning of the Revolution removed to the county of Stokes, 
where he then lived. He stated that during the period of the Regulation, 
" he went with his father to Cross Creek, now Fayetteville, with a load of 
wheat of 40 bushels. They could get five shillings per bushel, but of this 
only one shilling was paid in money ; or they could get a bushel of salt 
for a bushel of wheat. On their return they had 40 shillings in cash and 
were able to pay their tax, which was more than any other in the settle- 
ment could do." Caruthess, in his Life of Caldwell, appends the 
following averment to McPherson's statement : " Several old men in this 
county have given me a similar account of the price of wheat, as well as 
some other articles, and they added that if they could bring home 40 shil- 
lings, or five dollars, in money, for 40 bushels of wheat, they thought they 
were doing a first rate business." 

If the Provincial system of taxation was unwise and oppressive, the 
principle which regulated public expenditure was not less absurd and in- 
iquitous. Salaries were nominally small, but, in almost every instance, 
fees of indefinite and unknown amount were connected with salaries. The 
fees to which the Governor was lawfully entitled on marriage licenses, and 
licenses to keepers of ordinaries and tippling houses, must, in the aggre- 
gate, greatly have exceeded the salary allowed to the Chief Magistrate at 
the present day. Judges, clerks, sheriffs, and all the officers connected 
with the administration of justice were compensated for their services, in 
whole or in part, by fees. It was impossible, in the nature of things, that 
every department of the government should not have become corrupt 
under such a system, and that all became so there is conclusive proof. 

The expenditure of the public money, moreover, was in inverse ratio to 
population and taxation. Two-thirds of the voters resided in, and two- 
thirds of the taxes proceeded from, the Granville Patent. The northern- 
tier of counties was the minority in the provincial legislature, neverthe- 
less, and two-thirds of the public patronage were dispensed by the repre- 
sentatives of one-third of the people, and one-third of the tax-payers. 

1850.] War of the Rr<j illation-. l;->7 

Enfeebled by ill health and advanced age, Governor Dobbs obtained 
permission in July, 176-A, to Visit tbe mother country. On the 10th 
October, Lieut. Col. William Tryon arrived at Brunswick with a eom- 
pjssioa and instructions to assume the duties of the executive department, 
during the absence of the Governor, and with the expectation of succeed- 
ing him at an early clay. He found the province in an unquiet state: 
The extertiouc- practised by clerks,, sheriffs, attornies, and other officers, 
had sown the seeds of the Regulation broadcast, especially in Granville, 
Orange, Anson, and Rowan. Governor Pobb« was engaged in an un- 
pleasant controversy with the Provincial Legislature, in relation to the 
prerogative right which he claimed to appoint a public printer, and the 
restrictions upon trade apprehended as the natural result of the Stamp 
Act. From these troubles he was relieved by death, on the 28th March, 
in the following year, in the 82nd year of his age* 

It is apparent that Col. Tryon, from the first day of his arrival, had 
been awaiting the departure of Governor Dobbs with great impatience ; 
and the equanimity with which he sustained himself on hearing of his 
death, is thinly veiled by tbe terms in which lie announced the event to 
the Earl of Ifalifas : 

'■ "Wilmington, 2 April, 1765, 
<; Last Thursday Grovemor Dobbs retired from the strife and cares of 
lis world. Two days before his death he was busily employed in pack- 
up his books for his passage to England, His physician had no otber 
leans to prevent his fatiguing himself, than by telling him he had better 
)repare himself for a much longer voyage. I have got into my possession 
the seal of the province, and many public papers. The orders and iiv 
tractions from jour Lordship shall be obeyed with all possible dispatch, 
my patron, my L»rd, I hope you will allow me to call on your Lord- 
ip's goodness, to forward his Majesty's most gracious promise to appoint 
ne Governor to this Province." 
Tryon held at this time a commission as Lieut. Colonel in the Queen's 
lards, and had accepted the appointment of Lieut. Governor of North 
irolina, with the distinct understanding that he was to retain his rank 
in the army without disparagement. He was a gentleman of address, 
ict and courage, of more than ordinary ability, but passionate, unrelent- 
ing and narrow-minded. He was now embarking upon a sea of troubles, 
lat might well have appalled the clearest head and stoutest heart. The 
Regulators were to be quieted or subdued. The Stamp Act was to be 
executed, or its authors foiled and disgraced. The whole amount of specie 
the Province would not have enabled the inhabitants to pay the stamp 
luties, and the home government obstinately refused permiss'on to emit 
taper money. The Kegulators, known as yet as Thr Moh, were arrayed 

13S War of the Regulation. [October 

in the northern portion of the Province, against the extortion and mal- 
practices of the officers of government, and the entire population excited 
to madness against the system of internal duties with which they were 
menaced by the mother country. 

Col. Tryon convened his Council on the 2d April, 1765, announced 
the death of his predecessor, exhibited his commission as Lieut. Governor, 
took the oaths of office, and immediately issued a proclamation, continu- 
ing the appointees of Governor Dobbs in office, until his pleasure should 
be further known. The King appointed him " Governor, Captain Gen- 
eral and Commander-in-Chief," on the 16th July. He produced his com- 
mission before the Council on the 20th December, and on the following 
day issued a proclamation dissolving the General Assembly. He dex- 
trously availed himself of these successive vicissitudes and changes of the 
government, and subsequent less substantial pretexts, to evade a meeting 
of the Assembly, and prevent the expression of legislative will in relation 
to the Stamp Act. 

He met the Assembly for the first time in Wilmington, on the 3d May. 
After a brief, but favorable reference to the administration of his prede- 
cessor, and a recommendation of strict inquiry into the state of the pro- 
vincial finances, he remarked, " that he was instructed to request the pas- 
sage of a bill making better provision for an orthodox clergy." He in- 
sisted on the propriety and necessity of establishing a clergyman in each 
parish, whose salary should be paid out of the public treasury. He inti- 
mated the hope, that his preference for an establishment, and the estab- 
lished Church of England, would n-.'t give rise to the suspicion that he 
was an enemy to toleration. He assured them that he was the earnest 
advocate of religious liberty, but remarked that "he had never known 
toleration urged in any country, as an argument to exempt dissenters from 
their share of the support of the established church." 

The following extracts from the Governor's correspondence, not merely 
present authentic and interesting information with respect to the early his- 
tory of the Episcopal Church, but show fully and clearly the views which 
influenced the first, and in its ultimate consequences, the most important 
act of his administration. 

He had been so short a time in the Province, had enjoyed so little op- 
portunity of observing for himself, that his mistakes with reference to the 
comparative numbers of the several religious denominations, are matters 
of no very great surprise. 

Mr. Whitefield, it will be perceived, travelled through the Province 
and preached in Wilmington, in the Spring of 1765. He is not supposed, 
however, to have formed any separate religious societies, and the Wesley- 
ans, as a religious community, had at that time no organization within our 

1859.] War of the Regulation. 139 

borders. The Baptists then, as now, were a numerous and influential body 
of Christians. Shubal Stearns, a well known clergyman, planted a 
church on Sandy Creek as early as 1755, which, about this time, number- 
ed six hundred and six members. He was the immediate neighbor of 
Herman Husband, and surrounded by the earliest and most thorough- 
going Regulators. Next, if, indeed, less numerous, were the Presbyte- 
rians, to whom, as a body, the Governor concedes, on all occasions, a high 
character for intelligence and conservatism. Caruthers and Foote 
furnish all the information that can be desired with reference to their ante- 
revolutionary history, and obviate the necessity of entering into it more 
minutely at present. The Quakers were probably third in point of num- 
bers. The Episcopalians were mainly confined to the maritime districts, 
and were rarely found in the rural settlements of the interior. They were 
then, as at present, wealthy, intelligent and influential; but perhaps not 
more numerous than " The New Lights," so frequently the object of the 
Governor's reprobation and scorn. The latter seem to have sprung into 
existence under the influence of Mr. Whitemeld's ministrations, from 
Maine to Georgia. They ultimately united themselves with the Baptists, 
and constituted a most zealous and efficient branch of that denomination. 
They seem to have been, at all time3, active opponents of the established 
church, and earnest advocates of political reform. 

" The Honorable Society for the Propagation of the 

Gospel in Foreign Parts : 
" Brunswick, 31 July, 1765. 
" As this province has received considerable advantages from the mis- 
sionaries your Society have sent among the inhabitants, some information 
of the present state of religion in this colony may not be unacceptable to 
you. Every sect of religion abounds here, except the Roman Catholic, 
and by the best information I can get, Presbytery and a sect who call 
themselves ' New Lights,' (not of the flock of Mr. Whitefield,) but 
Superior Lights, from New England, appear in the front. These New 
Lights live chiefly in the maritime counties ; the Presbyterians are settled 
mostly in the back or westward counties ; though the Church of England 
I reckon, at present, to have the majority of all other sects ; and when a 
sufficient number of clergy as exemplary in their lives, as orthodox in their 
doctrine, can persuade themselves to come into this country, I doubt not 
but the larger number of every sect would come over to the established 
religion. I can hear but of five clergyman at present in this province, 
four of whom have missions from the Society, viz : The Rev. Mr. Reed, 
of New-Berne, in Craven county; Mr. Earle, near Eden ton, in Chowan 
county; Mr. Stuart, of Bath, in Beaufort county; Mr. Mom, Itinerant 

140 War of the Regulation., [October 

Missionary, I had an- opportunity, in a tour I made through part of tho 
Province, to see the above gentlemen, and must observe I think the three 
first are well settled and established, and I believe them regular in the 
discharge of their duty. I can speak more particularly of Mr. Reed, as. 
I saw much of him at the General Assembly, held at Newbern. I really 
esteem him a man of great worth. As this country is now settled more 
than 200 miles to the westward of Mr. Moir's residence, I do not think 
the Province receives any benefit from him as an itinerant missionary ; for 
under that general license of preaching everywhere, he seldom preaches, 
anywhere. This report I have from some gentlemen in his neighborhood, 
near the town of Halifax. I do net represent him as an immoral man, 
but should think it advisable he might be fixed to some parish agreeable 
to the inclosed Act of Assembly, the purport of which is the great in- 
ducement of my troubling the Society with this letter. Many efforts have 
been made to obtain a good clergy act in this Province, but as every trial 
has been as often clogged with objections incompatible with the rights of 
the Crown and the ecclesiastical jurisdiction, they have proved fruitless. 
This Act, however, I flatter myself is free from every material objection, 
and therefore beg leave to recommend to the consideration of the Society 
the extreme advantages that will accrue to his Majesty's subjects, by a 
happy establishment ef religion here. As I have pledged my endeavors 
to, get decent clergymen to serve in this Province, I earnestly hope for a 
further encouragement from the Society, by the increase of the missiona- 
ries, if only for a term of years, till gentlemen coming over might reim- 
burse themselves the expense of their voyage and first settling here; which 
is a charge that must be felt by every one who has only his merit to bal- 
ance that account. There are at present 32 parishes in the Province, and 
as five are already provided, twenty-seven clergymen are only required, a 
number so small, that it will be scarce sufficient to perform the marriage 
and burial services, offices at present performed without the greatest order 
or decency, by the Magistrates of the Peace. : Governor Bobbs was inter- 
red by a gentleman of this order, no clergyman living within one hundred 
miles of Brunswick. The state of the churches in this Province, begin- 
ning at the southward, are as follows, viz : 

At Brunswick, only the outside walls built and roofed. 

Wilmington, walls only. 

New-Berne, in good repair. 

Bath, wanting considerable repairs- 
. Edenton, wanting as much. 

As no British colony on this continent stands in more, or so much need 
of regular moral clergymen as this does, I hope the Society will give all 
possible a??if(anco, to contribute to the bappy effects of the present ortho--. 

1859.] War of the Regulation. 141 

djos bill. Should I be so happy to meet with a favorable regard to my 
recommendations, 1 shall, on a proper opportunity, communicate to the So- 
ciety the future state and progress of religion in this colony. Chapels are 
established in every county which is served by a Header, where no clergy 
can be procured ; they have two. three, or four, more or less in each coun- 
ty, according to the number of the inhabitants, or extent of the country. 
If the Society would send for my distribution, or the Governor's for the 
time being, as many well bound Bibles and Prayer Books for the minis- 
ters' desks as there are paiishes, it would have a better effect than a ship 
load of small books recommending the duty of a Christian. The ignorant 
would hear their duty delivered oiu of the former, when they could not 
instruct themselves in the latter. This incapacity prevails from a want of 
schools in the Province, which consideration brings me lastly to solicit the 
Society's bounty and encouragement to Mr. Tomlinson, at present seated 
at New-Berne. His memorial I enclose at his request, certified by many 
gentlemen, some of whom I am acquainted with. I had a long conversa- 
tion with Mr. Tomlinson, and from the sense and decency of his behavior, 
and the general good character he maintains, obliges me warmly to solicit 
the Society in his behalf. He is the only person of repute of that profes- 
sion in the couutry; he was invited to America by a brother who has a 
plantation near Newbern. I really think him deserving the favorable at- 
tention of the Society, and as such I recommend him. I cannot conclude 
this letter without acquainting the Society the Bev. Mr. Whitefield 
preached a sermon at Wilmington in March last, which would have done 
honor had he delivered it at St. James's, allowing some little alteration of 
circumstances between a discourse adapted for the Boyal Chapel and the 
Court House at Wilmington. As considerable sums of money have been 
raised by subscription for finishing the churches of Wilmington and 
Brunswick, I expect they will both be completed in less than twelve 

" A View of the Polity of the Province of North Carolina in 1767." 

" The clergy had never any regular and certain establishment till the 
Act of Assembly in the year 1765. This act entitled the minister to 
receive £138 Qs. 8(7. per annum, and obliged the vestry to supply them 
with a glebe of 200 acres of good land, and to build on it a mansion 
house and convenient out-bouses for the residence of the minister, or for 
want thereof, to pay him £20 annually in lieu of them. By the said Act, 
the ministers are entitled to certain fees mentioned therein for marriages, 
and giving certificates thereof, and for funeral sermons. As no provi- 
sion is made by the Act for the presentation of the minister, it devolves 
to the Crown, and is delegated to the Governor for the time being by his 

142 War of the Reyulation. [October 

Majesty's instructions. There are 13 ministers now in the Province, 7 of 
whom have received letters of presentation and induction from the pre- 
sent Governor." 

The gratification with which the Governor hailed the success of his 
effort to secure an efficient and permanent establishment for the Church, 
was marred by rumors that resolutions, deprecatory of the Stamp Act, 
were about to be introduced into the lower house of the Assembly. His 
ordinary tact and readiness were exhibited in proroguing the Legislature 
from the 18th May, to meet at New-Berne on the 3d of November. There 
was everything to gain, and nothing to lose, in the critical state of affairs, 
by the change of time and place. 

The Stamp Act was repealed in the Spring of 1766, and on the 25th 
June the Governor had it in his power to perform a double act of grace. 
Few men were more ready than he to make the most of such an opportu- 
nity. To quiet the Eegulators, he issued a proclamation, reciting that 
complaints having been made " that exorbitant fees had been demanded 
and taken in the several public offices," '''we do hereby strictly enjoin 
and require all public officers, in their respective stations throughout this 
Province, not to demand or receive any other fees for public business, trans- 
acted in their offices, than what are established by proper authority, upon 
pain of being removed from their said offices, and prosecuted with the ut- 
most severity of the law." 

A second proclamation of the same date announced that an authentic 
account had been received of the repeal of the Act of Parliament impos- 
ing certain stamp duties, and that therefore "public business may be car- 
ried on as usual, and that the inhabitants of the Province may return to 
that cheerful obedience to the laws and legislative authority of Great 
Britain," on which their future happiness and prosperity so greatly de- 

The latter proclamation was received without distrust, and with univer- 
sal and heart-felt satisfaction. The maritime districts in the Province had 
nothing more to ask or desire. No system of taxation more favorable to 
the wealthy sections, or the wealthy citizen of any section, than the tax 
upon polls, could have been devised. Very different were the interests 
and feelings of the people in the back country. 

At the County Court in Orange, in the month of August, a paper was 
read publicly to the magistrates and representatives of the county, which, 
after referring to the triumph obtained by " The Sons of Liberty," in the 
successful resistance of the Stamp Act in Parliament, proclaims the neces- 
sity of a thorough reform by the removal of " unjust oppression in our 
province." The paper makes no objection to the payment of necessary 
taxes, takes no exception to the revenue system, unequal as it was in its 

1859.] War of the Regulation. 148 

operation, but simply urges that peculation and extortion shall be exposed 
and prevented. " Every honest man is willing to give part of his substance 
to support rulers and laws to save the other part from rogues, and it is 
his duty, as well as his right, to see and examine whether such rulers 
abuse such trust." The writer proposes, therefore, that a meeting shall 
be held at "some suitable place where there is no liquor/' on Monday be- 
fore November Court, " at which meeting let it be judiciously inquired 
into, whether the freemen of this county labor under any abuses of pow- 
er or not, and let the same be notified in writing, if any is found, and 
the matter fully conversed upon and proper measures used for amendment." 

Mr. Lotd, one of the representatives who was present, avowed his ap- 
probation of the scheme. At his instance, the 10th of October was ap- 
pointed the day, and Maddock's Mill, on Eno, two or three miles west 
of Hillsborough, the place of meeting. A second paper was thereupon 
prepared, calling for a general attendance of the people. The object of 
tbe meeting was stated to be " to judiciously examine whether the free- 
men in this county labor under any abuses of power, and, in particular, 
to examine into the public tax, and inform themselves of every particular 
thereof — by what law and for what uses it is laid — in order to remove some 
jealousies out of our minds." The representatives, vestry-men, and other 
officers were requested to give the meeting all the information and satis- 
faction in their power " so far as they value the good will of every honest 
freeholder, and the executing public offices pleasant and delightsome." 

At the appointed time and place about twelve persons attended. Neith- 
er Mr. Lotd nor his colleague, Col. Fanning, was present. James 
Watson came along, '"'late in the day," and brought word from Col. 
Fanning that "he had intended to be present until within a day or two 
he observed in one of our papers the word 'judiciously/ which signified, 
he said, by a court of authority." He was, furthermore, represented as 
objecting to the mill, as not a suitable place of meeting; and, in short, 
(said Watson,) " Col. Fanning looks on it as an insurrection." 

A third paper was thereupon drawn up, giving a concise history of the 
meeting, reciting the failure of the representatives to attend, insisting upon 
the right of the people to know " for what uses our money is called for," 
and declaring their willingness to attend at some other time and place, if 
their representatives should be " inclinable to answer it," and give the 
" proper notice." A copy of this statement was delivered to Mr. Watson, 
who avowed his approbation of the course proposed, and promised to pre- 
sent a transcript to each representative. 

Instead of meeting the people, as desired, Col. Fanning is represented 
at the following court, or a general muster, to have read " a long piece of 
writing in public, and among our Justices in repugnance to our request." 

144 War 0/ the Regulation. [October 

This, together with menaces from sheriffs and others. " so discouraged the 
people that the afFair dropped, after we had subscribed to a sum of fifty 
pounds in order to commence suits at law against them on the penal laws, 
and was denied by the only attorney we had any hopes of serving us to 
undertake it." 

On the third day of November, 1766, Governor Tkyon allowed him- 
self to meet a General Assembly of North Carolina, for the second time. 
The Province, as has been shown., was burtliehed with a public debt, 
equal in amount to £2 10s. upon every head of a family. 

The whole northern portioa of the Province was disquieted by oppres- 
sive taxation, the impossibility of procuring titles to their homesteads, 
and, above all, by the well grounded apprehension of extortion in the col- 
lection of fees by every officer in the Province, from Governor to Consta- 
ble. It was in vain to assert the right of petition and instruction, or, as 
has been shown by the foregoing narrative, for the people to unite in a 
respectful request to the representatives for information as " to the uses 
their money was called for." Governor Tryon was neither ignorant of 
existing abuses, nor wanting in power to redress them. Re was in his 
own estimation, " every inch a king," and Was in truth clothed with vice 
regal power. He claimed and exercised the prerogative right to appoint 
the public printer, to license and appoint teachers of schools, to present 
and induct clergymen in the several parishes, to incorporate counties and 
towns, to call, prorogue and dissolve the Genera! Assembly, to approve, 
disapprove, or suspend the operation of legislative enactments, and the 
general power of appointment to oiiice durante bene placito. 

His opening speech afforded the earliest intimation of the course of 
policy which was to characterize his administration. " He drew the at- 
tention of the Legislature to the inadequacy of the emoluments of sher- 
iffs," and informed them that "their resolution for the establishment of 
Fort Johnston having expired he had ordered a continuance of the estab- 
lishment, and some necessary repairs to the Avork, upon the credit of the 
Province. The artillery and stores being too valuable not to claim atten- 
tion he desired an increase of the establishment." He observed that 
the court system had, on experience, proved a valuable one, and seemed 
to Want nothing but a greater degree of permanency and handsome salaries 
to the associate justices. 

The Province was overburthened with debt ; the office-holders were rich 
and the people poor ; extortion and peculation w T ere matters of every day 
occurrence. The great initial measures of relief and reform were increas- 
ed salaries, requital to Wilmington for the loss of the seat of government, 
by the libera! expenditure of public money at Fort Johnston, and conse- 
quent increased taxation to support the outlay. Having conciliated the 

1859.] War of the Regulation. 145 

Cape Fear, " by the continuance of the establishment at Fort Johnston/' 
which "he had ordered/' without awaiting the expression of legislative 
will — he proceeded at a later period of the session to suggest his favorite 
scheme for the erection of a palace at New-Berne. 

The third section of the Act authorizing the construction of this edifice, 
provides that the Governor, as often as he shall have occasion for money 
for the purpose, may issue his Warrant for a sum not exceeding five thou- 
sand pounds, to he paid " out of the money appropriated by Act of As- 
sembly for erecting of public schools and purchasing glebes." The Act' 
passed on this subject the following year, after reciting that the school 
fund amounted to but £3,500, appropriates the further sum of £10,000 
for the completion of the building, which amount the Governor is author- 
ized to borrow at eight per cent.., as well as the deficiency (£1,500) in the 
school fund, until the aggregate amount can be repaid by a poll tax of two 
shillings and sixpence on each taxable person in the Province. 

Fort Johnston was to be enlarged, and the palace erected in the south- 
ern district. Wilmington and New-Berne, the two commercial towns, 
the favored recipients of public bounty, relieved from all apprehension of 
stamp duties, were prepared to submit with comparative equanimity to a 
poll tax imposed for their benefit. The unanimous support of the/repre- 
sentatives of the southern district, augmented by the votes of ocdupants 
and expectants of place in the interior, may well be supposed to have se- 
cured the adoption of these measurer. 

Governor Tryon's position as Lieut. Colonel of the Queen's Guards, 
may excuse, to some extent, his feminine fondness for display, but only at 
the expense of his judgment. He gave ample evidence of taste in the 
arrangement of grounds, skill in architecture, womanly tact and adroitness 
in the management of men, and excessive refinement in court etiquette.- 
He adorned the palace, but ruined the Province. 

In his correspondence with the home government, he fairly assumes alt 
the responsibility, and justly claims all the credit, connected with the con- 
struction of the palace. An accomplished architect accompanied him from 
London in 1764, and his services were properly put in requisition. " He 
goes soon (writes the G overnor,) to Philadelphia to hire able workmen, 
as this Province affords none capable of such an undertaking." Under 
date of 12th January, 1769, he states that the palace is covered in and 
roofed. The plumber's work was executed by an able hand sent purpose- 
ly over from London. He made use of eight tons of lead. Sashes, chim- 
ney-pieces, marble cornices, etc., were ordered from England. In another 
letter, he remarks, that " several persons who have passed through here 
from the other colonies, esteem this house the capitol building on the con- 
tinent of North America. Should a currency not be obtained in virtue 

14(5 War of the Regulation. [October 

of the Council and Assembly's Address by their committees to his Ma- 
jesty, I am apprehensive it will not be possible to levy the tax to raise the 
£10,000 granted, yet by the provisions of the Act, I am empowered to 
take upon receipt, as much of the above sum as may be necessary to carry 
on the work." 

Martin, who was no eulogist of the Eegulators, and who, from his resi- 
dence in New-Berne at a period not very remote from the date of the 
events he relates, enjoyed the best opportunities to ascertain the truth, 
remarks as follows : 

" On the rise of the legislature, governor Tryon lost no time, in carry- 
ing into effect, his darling scheme of building a palace. He had exerted 
all his influence to obtain the passage of the bill, and the members of the 
king's council had been officially instructed, to give it all their support, in 
their legislative capacity. This measure was thought, by many, to have 
laid the foundation of the series of disorders and commotions, which ter- 
minated in the battle of the Alamance. The grant of five thousand pounds 
was aboee the means of the province, in its infant and impoverished state ; 
and the governor was intrusted, solely, with the disposition of the fund. 
The trust proved fatal to the interest of the province, and to the reputa- 
tion of the trustee. It was made to gratify his vanity at the expense of 
both. It afforded him an opportunity of leaving behind, an elegant monu- 
ment of his taste in building, and giving the minister an instance of his 
great influence and address, in his new government. The temptation was 
not resisted ; and the plan of a governor's house, was substituted for 
that of a palace, worthy the residence of a prince of the blood . The pur- 
chase of the ground and the erection of the foundation, absorbed the sum 
which the legislature had been pleased to bestow, which was an ample ap- 
propriation for the completion of the building. 

" The building was superior to any of the kind in British North Ame- 
rica ; and the writer of this history, who visited it in 1783, in company 
with the late renowned and unfortunate don Francisco de Miranda, heard 
that gentleman say, it had no equal in South America. 

" It was dedicated to Sir William Draper, the conqueror of Manilla, 
who was on a visit at governor Tryon's, and was said to be the author of 
the following lines, inscribed over the principal door, in the vestibule : 

Rege pio, felix, diris inimica tyrannis, 
Viriuti has osdes libera terra dedit. 
Sint domus et dominus saiclis exempla futuris, 
Hie artes, mores, jura, legesque colant. 

Which are translated thus : 

In the reign of a monarch, who goodness disclos'd r 
A free, happy people, to dread tyrants oppos'd. 

185i).] War of the Regulation. 147 

Have, to virtue and merit, erected this dome ; 
May the owner and household make this the lov'd home, 
Where religion, the arts and the laws may invite 
Future ages to live, in sweet peace and delight." 

Before the completion of the palace, our extending settlements were 
approaching the Alleghanies, and hardy adventurers from the neighbor- 
hood of the present seat of government, had formed a settlement on the 
western waters. The pioneers of Watauga were to pay, by a poll tax, for 
the erection of a palace in a town, which, until the completion of the 
Western and Atlantic Eailroad during the last few months, was, perhaps, 
visited by a single mountaineer at intervals of a quarter of a century 
Not one in a thousand of the Regulators, whose poll taxes contributed to- 
wards its erection, ever saw the palace. The Provincial Legislature con- 
vened in it for the first time on the 5th December, 1770, and on the 8th 
April, 1775, the last of the Royal Governors suddenly and angrily dis- 
solved the last Provincial Assembly. The Governor himself, a short time 
thereafter, took not less sudden leave of the vice regal mansion. In 1781, 
the iron pallisades were removed, and the lead torn from the roof, under 
the orders of Governor Burke and Council, to supply munitions and im- 
plements of war, and it is not surprising that General Washington, in 
his visit to New-Berne in 1791, found the substantial and elegant struc- 
ture in a dilapidated condition. It was consumed no great while there- 
after, by the torch of an accidental incendiary, under circumstances of 
which the gravity of history will scarcely permit the recital. 

It is a matter of curious inquiry, whether an edifice of the character 
described by Governor Tryon and Judge Martin, in the foregoing ex- 
tracts from the letter book of the former and the history of the latter, 
could have been built for the sum of fifteen thousand pounds. There is 
too much reason to suspect, that no such system of accountability prevail- 
ed in the fiscal department, as would have enabled any one, from whom 
the Governor chose to conceal the facts, to ascertain whether the appro- 
priations were exhausted or exceeded. 

Governor Tryon had thus far been eminently successful in securing 
the adoption of the measures he had most at heart. He was from princi- 
ple and policy a high-churchman. He believed that the Church and the 
state must stand or fall together. During the brief period which he per- 
litted the General Assembly of May, 1665, to exist, he had secured the 
permanent establishment of an orthodox clergy, with comparatively ample 
Drovision for their support, and by suddenly and unexpectedly proroguing 
the Assembly, had smothered ebullition of feeling in relation to the Stamp 


His second Assembly met him with spirits chafed and irritated by the 
lanncr in which the previous session terminated, and the long delay in 

148 War oj the Regulation. [October 

again calling them together. He seems to have succeeded in not merely 
soothing, but in moulding them to his will, with admirable facility and 
celerity. An appropriation of sufficient amount to lay the foundation of 
the palace, and coerce its subsequent completion, was, as we have seen, 
readily obtained. He was enabled to make a royal progress through the 
Province and meet the Cherokees on the border of their hunting grounds in 
all the pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war. That he should have 
accomplished such purposes, by the annihilation of the common-school fund, 
and replenishing his exhausted exchequer with money borrowed at usu- 
rious interest, is as little creditable to his statesmanship as his philanthrophy. 

He was not unmindful of the importance of education, nevertheless ', 
but education, in his estimation, was only expedient when in subordina* 
tion to the Church, and religion was only to be patronized when subser- 
vient to the State. Until this time, no seminary of learning had been in- 
corporated in the Province. " An Act for establishing a school-house in 
the town of New-Berne/' discloses, in the third section, the Governor's 
views in relation to the true theory of government, religion, and educa- 
tion, " provided, always, that no person shall be admitted to be master of 
the said school, but who is of the Established Church of England, and 
who at the recommendation of the trustees or directors, or the majority of 
them, shall be duly licensed by the Governor, or Commander-in-Chief for 
the time being." 

Hitherto, though Justices of the Peace might celebrate the marriage 
ceremony, the rite Avas unlawful if performed by a dissenting clergyman. 
An Act concerning marriage was passed at this session. The second sec- 
tion provided that all marriages, previously celebrated by any of the dis- 
senting or Presbyterian clergy, should be considered valid. Subsequent 
provisions made it lawful in future, "for any Presbyterian minister, regu- 
larly called to any congregation in the Province, to celebrate the rites of 
matrimony." The established clergyman in the parish, was, in all cases, 
to receive the twenty shilling fee, nevertheless, " if he did not refuse to 
do the service thereof, although any other person performed the marriage 

On the 31st January, 1767, the Governor transmitted the twenty-nine 
acts passed at the General Assembly which had recently adjourned, with 
explanatory notices of such enactments as seemed to require them. On 
this subject he remarks as follows : 

"31 January, 1767. 
« To the Earl of Shelburn ;-— 

" The Act to amend an Act entitled ' An Act Concerning Marriage,' 
has more objects in view than appear on the sight of it. The Marriage 
Act passed in 1741, to which it has relation,, entitles every Justice of the 

1859.] War of the Regulation. 140 

Peace to marry by license. In abuse of this privilege, many of the Jus- 
tices performed the marriage ceremony without license first had and ob- 
tained, and took the fee allowed to the Governor, most generally dividing 
the spoil between the justice and the clerk of the county who gave the 
bond and certificate. Another tendency of this Act was to prevent the 
frequent abuses by rascally fellows, who travelled through the Province 
under the title of ministers of the Presbyterian and other sectaries, and 
who being beggars in conscience, as well as in circumstances, sought all 
opportunities to perform that sacred office to the great prejudice of the 
country. It is also to be observed, most of the justices in the back or 
western settlement are Presbyterians, who, by the Act of 1741, had the 
power to marry by license : Therefore, upon the whole, I do not conceive 
the allowing the Presbyterian ministers the privilege to marry in the usual 
and accustomed manner, can be of any real prejudice to the Established 
Church, especially as the marriage fee is reserved to the minister of the 
parish, and the license to be granted under the hand and seal of the Gov- 
ernor. This last provision prevents the former abuses in the application 
of the fees collected. The Act also provides a summary and effectual 
method, for the Governor to oblige the county court clerks to account for 
the fees due to him : a recovery, though an equitable one, was never yet 
secured but in temporary laws," 

The following extracts from the Governor's letters to the Rev. Dr. 
Burton, Secretary to the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, will 
show the opinions he entertained at the time they bear date, of the char- 
acter of the religious sects in the Province, and of the people by whom 
they were sustained : 

"Brunswick, 30th April, 1767. 
" The Rev. Mr. Moir's death in February last, defeated the Society's 
direction to have him fixed to some parish. I desire leave warmly to so- 
licit the Society, that Mr. Moir's mission may be continued in the Pro- 
vince, as I am very apprehensive from the real indigence of the inhabi- 
tants of some counties here, the stipend for the minister, though moderate, 
is more than the parishes can raise." 

" The strictest caution and care is absolutely necessary in the recom- 
mendation of gentlemen who come to settle as ministers in this Province. 
The inhabitants are strict inquisitors, and if the clergyman is not of a mor- 
al character, and his life regular and exemplary, he will attract but little 
esteem to himself, and less benefit to his parishioners, for whom he must 
undergo patience and fatigue in the service of his calling." 

150 War of the Rcgulatioii. [October 

" Brunswick, 20 March, 1769. 
" The inclosed letter from the Rev. Mr. Fiske, will state the ungenteel 
and cruel treatment he has received from his parishioners. I recommend 
him to sue the Church Wardens and Vestry for his salary. I am told his 
parish is full of Quakers and Ana-Baptists; the first no friend, the latter 
an avowed enemy to the mother Church." 

" That the Society may be informed of the share the Rev. Mr. Mickle- 
john took to quiet the minds of the people during the disturbances in this 
country, I send you inclosed the sermon he preached to the troops at 
Hillsborough ; a discourse that gave great satisfaction, as it was well 
adapted to the situation of public affairs. I also transmit you the Pres- 
byterian ministers' address to their flock : The good effects of the princi- 
ples they inculcated, I had the happiness to experience ; services I shall 
ever gratefully remember. 

" The Presbyterians and Quakers are the only tolerated sectaries, under 
any order or regulation, every other are enemies to society, and a scandal 
to common sense." 

The papers marked No. I, II, III in Husband's book, extracts from 
which have been given in the preliminary account of the doings of the 
Mob, arc understood to have proceeded from his pen. As he was evi- 
dently the master spirit from the beginning to the close of the contest, 
more information than we possess, in relation to his personal history, is 
greatly to be desired. He is understood to have been a native of Penn- 
sylvania, and a member of the Society of Friends. The precise period of 
his removal to North Carolina is unknown. Caruthers supposes him 
to have been a relative of Dr. Franklin, and his secret and confidential 
emissary in the dissemination of political tracts, in opposition to the 
scheme of taxation, by which we were menaced from time to time by the 
mother country. In addition to the evidence relied on by Caruthers 
to sustain this statement, the memorial >jf the Regulators to the General 
Assembly of 1769, from the county of Anson, introduced by Husband, 
praying, among other things, " That Dr. Benjamin Franklin, or some 
other known patriot, be appointed agent to represent the unhappy state 
of this Province to his Majesty, and to solicit the several Boards in Eng- 
land," may be regarded as some confirmation. 

Dr. Franklin was a son of sedition. Without reference to his private, 
his public history is a narrative of rebellion. In 1754, he drew up the 
plan of Continental Union which was unanimously adopted by the Congress 
of Commissioners from seven Provinces, at Albany, and had the singular 
fate of being rejected, not only by the Crown, but by every provincial 

1859.] War of the Regulation. 151 

assembly. By tlie Crown, because it was apprehended that the union 
might teach the colonies the secret of their strength, and by the colonies, 
owing to jealousies arising out of diversities in languages, nationality and 
religion, and, above all, conflicting interests in relation to boundaries. With 
the experience thus attained, he expressed the opinion, in 1760, "that a 
union of the colonies against the mother country was absolutely impossi- 
ble, or at least, without being forced by the most grievous tyranny and 
oppression." This tyranny and oppression were not long delayed, and 
Dr. Franklin was the first to sound the tocsin of alarm. It is well 
known that if not the main spring, he sympathised most deeply with the 
leaders of the French Revolution, and it is a significant fact that the fu- 
gitive Regulators, the founders of Tennessee, gave his name to the rebel- 
lious commonwealth, which arose within our borders shortly after the 
adoption of the federal constitution — the State of Franklin. It is no less 
remarkable that this same Watauga settlement was represented in the 
convention that formed our State constitution in 1776, under the name 
of "Washington District." It was the earliest germ of trans- Alleghany 
civilization that received and thus honored the name of the Father of his 
Country. Such men were never cowards, traitors or tories. 

Caruthers characterizes Husband as a man of superior mind, grave 
in deportment, somewhat taciturn, wary in conversation, but when excited 
fluent and forcible in utterance and argument. He says that his cotem- 
poraries all spoke of him as a man of strict integrity, and a firm and sin- 
cere advocate of what he believed to be the lights of mankind. 

He seems to have been wealthy as compared with his neighbors. He 
owned three or four thousand acres of the best land in Randolph. His 
well cultivated wheat fields and clover meadows were the admiration of 
the whole country. In 1765, the first edition of Davis' Revisal of the 
provincial laws, made its appearance. Two small quarto volumes, bound 
in one, containing, together, about 600 pages, were probably sold at three 
or four dollars a copy. Husband, in connection with one of the justices 
of the county court, was the proprietor of a copy. The scarcity of 
money and of the book may be readily inferred from the joint ownership, 
and the circumstances connected with its subsequent introduction to pub- 
lic notice. 

From henceforth the personal history of Husband, as head of the in- 
surgents, and of Fanning, as a leader of the royalists, are blended with, 
and constitute in so great a degree, the history of the Regulation, that we 
can only regret our inability to present more minute and authentic infor- 
mation than we have been able to glean, in relation to the lives and char- 
acters of each. 

Edmund Fanning was a native of Connecticut, and as he graduated 

1 52 War of the Regulation. [October 

at Yale College in 1757, was probably born about 1737, and about thirty- 
four years of age at the Battle of Alamance. His literary and scientific 
attainments, though respectable, were not probably very remarkable. It 
is very remarkable, nevertheless, that a resident of the Province of North 
Carolina when little advanced of thirty years of age, should have been 
honored with the degree of Doctor of Laws by the University of Oxford, 
and that the compliment should have been subsequently repeated by his 
Alma Mater, by King's (now Columbia) College, and by Dartmouth Uni- 
versity. The annals of our State present no other, and the Union scarce- 
ly, if indeed a single, instance of an individual crowned at so early an age 
with this high literary distinction from such respectable and numerous 
sources, abroad and at home. His subsequent career, which will clevelope 
itself as the narrative proceeds, will afford a satisfactory solution of the 
mystery. He was a gentleman of courtly manners, of tact and talent for 
intrigue, an obsequious time-server and under all dynasties a place-man. 
In general ability, integrity, and in every respect but education, he would 
not bear a favorable comparison with the Quaker leader. 

At August count}- court, 1707, Husband seems to have presented deeds 
with '•' the customary fees" charged in other counties for recording them, 
and these having been refused by Fanning, he exhibited his law-book 
and offered to pay a larger sum, if any enactment could be found requir- 
ing it. He was taunted from the Bench with the enquiry "how long it 
was since he commenced law} T er?" This was followed by the intimation 
that he was in danger of incurring punishment for contempt of court. His 
partner in the ownership of the book was a member of the Court. He was 
intimidated by his associates and forbade all further public use of it. The 
sheriffs, emboldened by the course pursued by the Court, grew daily more 
insolent and oppressive. Unusual distresses of property, double, treble, 
and quadruple in value were made, " carried to Hillsborough, at the dis- 
tance of thirty and sixty miles, sold at under rates so that roguish people 
began to depend on these sales to raise their fortunes" — "Besides among 
Dutch people, they practiced taking four pence, six pence, and a shil- 
ling in a tax more, than from the more knowim*" 

In February, 1768, the people were exasperated by an insulting adver- 
tisement of the sheriff, Tyree Harris, announcing his intention to with- 
draw indulgencies previously allowed in the mode of collecting taxes. 
" The rumor of giving the Governor fifteen thousand pounds to build him 
a house, all happening together at this time, conspired to give rise to what 
was called the Mob, which in a little time altered to that of the Regula- 
tors." The number of dissatisfied persons increased daily, and on the 22cl 
March, the following Articles of Association were prepared and signed : 

,; We. the subscribor.s, do volunfarilv aerrce to form ourselves into an As- 

1859.] War of the Regulation! 153 

sociation, to assemble ourselves for conference for regulating public griev- 
ances and abuses of power, in the following particulars, with others of the 
like nature that may occur. 

" 1st. That we will pay no more taxes until we are satisfied they are 
agreeable to law, and applied to the purposes therein mentioned ; unless 
we cannot help it, or are forced. 

"2d. That we will pay no officer any more fees than the law allows, 
unless we are obliged to it ; and then to show our dislike, and bear an 
open testimony against it. 

" 3d. That we will attend our meetings of conference as often as we 
conveniently can, and if necessary, in order to consult our representatives 
on the amendment of such laws as may be found grievous or unnecessary \ 
and to choose more suitable men than we have done heretofore for Bur- 
gesses and Vestry-men ; and to petition the Houses of Assembly, Govern- 
or, Council, King and Parliament, &c, for redress in such grievances as 
in the course of the undertaking may occur ; and to inform one another, 
learn, know, and enjoy all the privileges and liberties that are allowed and 
were settled on us by our worthy ancestors, the founders of our present 
Constitution, in order to preserve it on its ancient foundation, that it may 
stand firm and unshaken. 

"4th. That we will contribute to collections for defraying necessary exr 
penses attending the work, according to our abilities. 

" 5th. That, in case of difference of judgment, we will submit to the 
judgment of the majority of our body. 

• "To all which, we solemnly swear, or, being a Quaker, or otherwise 
scrupulous in conscience of the common oath, do solemnly affirm, that we 
will stand true and faithful to this cause, till we bring things to a true 
regulation, according to the true intent and meaning hereof in the judg- 
ment of the majority of us." 

" Whereas, The taxes in this county are larger, according to the num- 
ber of taxables, than adjacent counties, and continues so year after year ; 
and as the jealousies still prevail among us, that we are wronged ; and 
having the more reason to think so, as we have been at the trouble of 
choosing men, and sending them, after the civilest manner that we could,, 
to know what we paid our levy for, but could receive no satisfaction ; — 
for James Watson was sent to 3faddock's Mill, and said that Edmund 
Fanning looked on it, that the country called him by authority, or like as 
if they had a right to call him to an account. — Not allowing the country 
the right that they have been entitled to, as English subjects ; for the 
King requires no money from his subjects, but what they are made sensi- 
ble what use it's for. 


154 War of the Regulation. [October 

u We are obliged to seek redress by denying paying any more until we 
have a full settlement for what is past, and have a true regulation with our 

" As our grievances are too many to be notified in a small piece of wri- 
ting, we desire that you, our Assembly-men and Vestry-men, may appoint 
a time, before next court, at the Court House, and let us know by the 
bearer, and we will choose men to act for us, and settle our grievances. 

" Until such time as you will settle with us, we desire the sheriffs will 
not come this way to collect the levy ; for we will pay none before there 
is a settlement to our satisfaction. 

" And as the nature of an officer is a servant to the public, we are de- 
termined to have the officers of this county under a better and honester 
regulation, than they have been for some time past. 

" Think not to frighten us (with rebellion) in this case, for if the inhabi- 
tants of this Province have not as good a right to enquire into the nature 
of our Constitution; and disbursements of our funds, as those of our mother 
country, we think that it is by arbitrary proceedings that we are debarred 
of that right. Therefore, to be plain with you, it is our intent to have a 
full settlement of you in every particular point that is matter of doubt 
with us. So fail not to send an answer by the bearer. If no answer, we 
shall take it for granted, that we are disregarded in this our request again 
from the public." 

" This was the first message this new society sent. But no masters of 
abject slaves could be more exasperated : — they were rebels, insurgents, 
&c, to be shot, hanged, &c, as mad dogs, &c. And the Sandy Creek . 
men, or authors of No. 1, 2, and 3, were to be punished for it all; for 
these refer to their former papers." 

After allusions to similar subsequent occurrences, Husband makes the 
following remark, one of many indications of the sympathy which at all 
times prevailed between the Regulators and the people of Massachusetts : 
" I have said thus much on this head, the more as I observe by the news- 
papers, that men in higher stations than our officers attempted the same thing 
on the town of Boston." The oppression, external and internal, civil and 
religious, was more grievous here than there, and it is not surprising that 
the seeds of rebellion germinated earlier in the southern clime. 

The general meeting of the citizens of Orange, held in pursuance of 
these Articles of Association, on the 4th of April, seems to have been the 
first to assume the name of Regulators. The assumption of "the borrow- 
ed title of Regulators," was the subject of severe reprehension by the Gov- 
ernor, in his reply of the 21st June, to their petition for redress of griev- 

At the general meeting on the 4th April, mentioned above, two persons 

1859-3 War of the Regulation^ 155 

were appointed to request the two last sheriffs and the vestrymen, to meet 
twelve persons to be selected by the Regulators, and enter into an exam- 
ination of the amount of taxes which had been collected, and the uses to 
which it had been applied. Before the commissioners had time to perform 
this service, the officers, " either to try or exasperate the now enraged 
populace, took by way of distress, a mare, saddle, and bridle for one levy." 
The Regulators immediately rose to the number of sixty or seventy, res- 
cued the mare, "and fired a few guns at the roof of Col. Fanning's 

On this occasion the established minister of the county, the Rev. George 
Micklejohn, appears to have interposed, and announced on the part of 
the officers, that they had appointed the 11th May for the settlement pro- 
posed by the Regulators. Before a meeting could be arranged, the Gov- 
ernor's secretary arrived with a proclamation, requiring the rioters to dis- 
perse. At a time when the Regulators were quietly at home, " the officers 
with a tavern-keeper or two, and a man chaged with murder, about 30 in 
number, all armed," seized William Butler, one of the alledged rioters, 
by virtue of a warrant, and Herman Husband without a warrant, under 
the pretext that he was the author of the three first papers, put forth by 
the Mob. This outrage alarmed and aroused the whole country, and more 
than seven hundred armed men presented themselves in sight of Hills- 
borough the next morning. In the meantime, the prisoners had given 
bail and been released. The secretary was intimidated, and after reading 
the proclamation, stated that he " was authorized by the Governor to tell 
them if they would disperse, go home and petition, he would protect and re- 
dress them against any unlawful extortions or oppressions." " The multi- 
tude, as witL one voice, cried out, Agreed ! That is all we want, liberty to 
make our grievances known." Here it was obviously in the power of the 
Governor by a course, as just as politic, to have terminated the contest. Op- 
pression had thus far been resisted with mildness, in comparison with what 
would be exhibited in our midst at the present day under similar circum- 
stances. No blood had been shed, and proper efforts to repress extortion 
and peculation, would have restored public harmony. "We cannot enter 
into further minute details. The works referred to in the opening, will 
afford those disposed to engage in the enquiry, ample opportunity for in- 
teresting and satisfactory investigation. 

" The Impartial Relation" of Husband, presents with great minute- 
ness of detail, the principal incidents of Tryon's first expedition against 
the Regulators. He is sustained in most of his statements, by the letter 
published in cotemporary newspapers, over the signature of Atticus, and 
addressed to Governor Tryon. The writer is understood to have been 
Maurice Moore, «ne of the judges who presided at the trials of Fan- 

1.56 War of the Regulation. [October 

ning for extortion, and Husband for riot, in September, 1768. The 
following paragraphs are all that are necessary to our purpose, but the en- 
tire communication will reward examination, by any one desirous of ob- 
taining a miniature representation of Tryon's personal character, -as well 
as of the most prominent features of his administration : 

" In a colony without money, and among a people, almost desperate with 
distress, public profusion should have been carefully avoided ; but, unfor- 
tunately for the country, you were bred a soldier, and have a natural, as 
well as acquired fondness for military parade. You were intrusted to run 
a Cherokee boundary about ninety miles in length ; this little service at 
once afforded you an opportunity of exercising your military talents, and 
making a splendid exhibition of yourself to the Indians. To a gentleman 
or your excellency's turn of mind, this was no unpleasing prospect; you 
marched to perform it, in a time of profound peace, at the head of a com- 
pany of militia, in all the pomp of war, and returned with the honorable 
title, conferred on you by the Cherokees, of Great Wolf of North Caro- 
lina. This line of marked trees, and your excellency's prophetic title, 
cost the province a greater sum than two pence a head, on all the taxable 
persons in it for one year, would pay. 

" Your next expedition, Sir, was a more important one. Four or five 
hundred ignorant people, who called themselves regulators, took it into 
their head to quarrel with their representative, a gentleman honored with 
your excellency's esteem. They foolishly charged him with every distress 
they felt ; and, in revenge, shot two or three musket balls through his 
house. They at the same time rescued a horse which had been seized for 
the public tax. These crimes were punishable in the courts of law, and 
at that time, the criminals were amenable to legal process. Your excel- 
lency and your confidential friends, it seems, were of a different opinion. 
All your duty could possibly require of you on this occasion, if it required 
any thing at all, was to direct a prosecution against the offenders. You 
should have carefully avoided becoming a party in the dispute. But, Sir, 
your genius could not lie still ; you enlisted yourself a volunteer in this 
service, and entered into a negotiation with the regulators, which at once 
disgraced you and encouraged them. They despised the governor who 
had degraded his own character by taking part in a private quarrel, and 
insulted the man whom they considered, as personally their enemy. The 
terms of accommodation your excellency had offered them were treated 
with contempt. What they were I never knew ; they could not have re- 
lated to public offences ; these belong to another jurisdiction. All hopes 
of settling the mighty contest by treaty ceasing, you prepared to decide it 
by means more agreeable to your martial disposition, an appeal to the 
SAYord. You took the field in September, 1768, at the head of ten or 

1859.] War of the Regulation. 157 

twelve hundred men, and published an oral manifesto, the substance of 
which was, that you had taken up arms to protect a superior court of jus- 
tice from insult. Permit me here to ask you, Sir, why you were appre- 
hensive for the court? Was the court apprehensive for itself? Did the 
judges, or the attorney-general, address your excellency for protection ? 
So far from it, Sir, if these gentlemen are to be believed, they never en- 
tertained the least suspicion of any insult, unless it was that, which they 
afterwards experienced from the undue influence you offered to extend to 
them, and the military display of drums, colors and guards, with which 
they were surrounded and disturbed." 

The official account of these events as rendered by the Governor to the 
Earl of Hillsborough on the 24th of December, 1768, is subjoined. It is 
copied from the Tryon Letter Book, and is now published for the first 
time. It will be perceived that while seeking occasion to disparage Hus- 
band, he omits the opportunity afforded by the reference to make any 
allusion to his acquittal of all the offences charged against him by the 
same tribunal that convicted Fanning. The court, it avIII be remember- 
ed, was composed of three judges, who held their offices at the pleasure 
of the Governor. The sheriff who summoned the petit jury was one of 
his dependants, and the court was surrounded by a thousand armed men, 
under his immediate command. Three of the four indictments sent 
against Husband were ignored by the grand jury, and on the trial of the 
fourth, he was acquitted by the petit jury. 

The Governor states the fact that Butler, the friend and associate of 
Fanning, was convicted of the offence of resisting an oppressive, if a 
legal, exercise of power, in levying upon a horse and trappings for a sin- 
gle poll tax. Evidence to shew that the tax was not due was rejected by 
the court, and the defendant sentenced to pay a fine of fifty pounds and 
undergo six months imprisonment. 

Fanning, the court favorite, a scholar, a lawyer, and a member of the 
Assembly, convicted in six instances of extortion, was dismissed with a 
penny fine in each case. The evidence against him, even in the mind of 
the Governor, was too conclusive to admit of the expression of a doubt of 
his guilt, and yet he united with the court in studious attempts to palliate 
his odious offences — offences, the righteous resistance to which, consigned 
Fanning and Butler, in repeated instances, to a dungeon, endangered 
their lives, destroyed their estates, and involved the impoverished Pro- 
vince in a debt of twenty thousand pounds. 

"Brunswick, 24th December, 1768. 
" Earl Hillsborough : 

"That his Majesty may be intimately acquainted with the causes of the 
disorders, as well as the steps that have been taken to quiet the minds of 

158 War of the Regulation. [October 

the people and to re-establish the tranquility of this government, I here- 
with transmit to your Lordship, agreeable to the purpose of your letter 
17th for his Majesty's information, the address and papers the inhabitants 
on Haw river, in Orange county, delivered to me in Council the 20th of 
June last, with the answer I sent them thereto, as also the correspondence 
that was subsequent to both. These, with the rough journal of my pro- 
ceedings from the time of the above address coming to me, till the insur- 
gents dispersed themselves the 24th of September, and the daily orders 
also transmitted, given to the troops assembled at Hillsborough to preserve 
the public peace, will be the truest vouchers of the state of the public dis- 
contents in this colony. 

" To say that these insurgents had not a color for their showing a dissat* 
isfaction at the conduct of their public officers, would be doing them an 
injustice, for on a prosecution at the superior court, carried on by the at- 
torney general in virtue of my directions, both the register and clerk of 
the county were found guilty of taking too high fees. It manifestly ap- 
pearing that Colonel Fanning, the register, had acted with the utmost 
candor to the people, and that his conduct proceeded from a misconstruc- 
tion of the fee bill, he was in court honorably acquitted of the least inten- 
tional abuse in office. Colonel Fanning, however, immediately after the 
above verdict resigned up to me his commission of register. At the same 
court, three of the insurgents (all that were tried) were found guilty of a 
riot and rescue, and sentenced to fine and imprisonment as follows : 

" William Butler to a fine of £50 and sis months' imprisonment. 

" Samuel Devinney to a fine of £25 and three months' imprisonment. 

11 Jno. Phillip Hartzo to a fine of £25 and three months' imprisonment. 

" The superior court being ended and the insurgents all dispersed, I dis- 
charged the troops and thought it advisable to release the three prisoners, 
and to suspend the payment of their fines for six months, as by the advice 
of the council a proclamation of pardon was issued, with some persons ex- 
cepted; these I imagine will take their trials next March. This lenity had 
a good tendency, the insurgents finding their ardor opposed and checked, 
and that they were not the masters of government, began to reflect that 
they were mislead and in an error ; and as a proof of their change of dis- 
position, they have since permitted the sheriff to perform the duties of his 
office. Those in Orange county, I hear have declared they will pay their 
taxes as soon as they can get the money. Other parts of the province 
have been quiet sincej excepting an attempt made by thirty men from 
Edgecombe county (while the Assembly was sitting) to rescue one O'JNTeal, 
an insurgent, out of Halifax gaol. This body, however, by the spirit and 
activity of the townsmen and neighborhood, were drove out of town after 
having many heads broke, one horse shot, and one of their party taken 

1859.] War of the Regulation. 159 

and put in prison. I will mention another affair which happened in Au- 
gust last : A body of about eighty men came to the court of Johnston 
county with the intention to turn the justices off the bench, as had been 
done in the spring at Anson county court. The justices thought it prudent, 
tho' the first day of the court, to adjourn the court for that term. Upon 
the notice of the insurgents' approach, they immediately collected some 
gentlemen and others, who were the friends of government, and attacked 
with clubs the insurgents, and after a smart skirmish drove them out of 
the field. I am persuaded if I had not had the fortune to stop the mis- 
chief that was intended against the town of Hillsborough, and insult to 
the superior court, the civil government of most of the counties in the 
province would have beeu over-ruled, if not overturned, and the door 
opened for the completion of their inteutions, an abolition of taxes and 
debts, for the insurgents throughout the country only waited to see the 
event at Hillsborough, Orange county being considered by them as the 
heart of the strength of their friends ; and if they had then triumphed, 
thousands would have declared for them, and stood up in defiance of the 
laws of this country. 

" If your Lordship should require any further satisfaction as to the late 
disturbances, than what is transmitted with this letter, Captain Collet, who 
was present at Hillsborough in quality of my Aid-de-Camp, can give your 
Lordship information of every particular of that service. It is with plea- 
sure, I can assure his Majesty, not a person of the character of a gentle- 
man appeared among these insurgents. Herman Husband appears to have 
planned their operations. He is of a factious temper, and has long since 
been expelled from the society of the Quakers for the immorality of his 
life. I beg leave to submit to his Majesty, whether his extending the 
proclamation of pardon and making it general, (Herman Husband, their 
principal, only excepted,) both with respect to persons and fines, as I have 
only a power of suspension in the latter case, may not be advisable in the 
present circumstance? of the country ; the gaols through the whole province 
(Halifax excepted) are so miserably weak, that it is a prisoner's own choice if 
he stays to take his trial, unless there is a special guard to prevent his escape. 

" I have only to add that the troops employed on this occasion were ex- 
tremely steady in the cause of government, orderly and regular in the dis- 
charge of their duty. His Majesty's Presbyterian subjects, as well as 
those of the Church of England, showed themselves very loyal on this 
service ; and 1 have a pleasure in acknowledging the utility that the Pres- 
byterian ministers' letter to their brethren had upon the then face of pub- 
lic affairs, when every man's affections seemed to be tainted with the poison 
of the insurgents. The Rev. Mr. Micklejohn's sermon inclosed, will tes- 
tify his assiduity in this cause. 

160 War of the Regulation. [October 

I can with great integrity declare, that I never experienced the same 
anxiety and fatigue of spirits, as I did last summer in raising and conduct- 
ing the troops. If the motive and issue meets with his Majesty's gracious 
approbation, it will be a great consolation to 

" My Lord, your Lordship's, &c." 

"We had occasion, in preliminary remarks on the subject of taxation 
and representation, to refer to the statements of Governor Tryon, Chief 
Justice Hasell, and the regulator McPherson, with respect to the 
scarcity of money and the comparative value of property then, and at the 
present time. 

The results of this expedition, as exhibited in the provincial legislation 
upon the subject, will present the inequality of representation and taxa- 
tion in another, and a stronger light, and shew that the traditions with 
reference to prices of staple commodities, are fully sustained by the record. 

The "Act making provision for the payment of the forces raised to 
suppress the late insurrection on the western frontiers," &c, passed in 
1768, after reciting that "a large debt is become due for tbe payment and 
subsistence of these troops, and that the great scarcity of money rendering 
it impossible to raise a sufficient sum to pay off that debt, or to discharge 
the larger sums due from the public, for running the dividing line be- 
tween this Province and the Indian hunting-grounds, and other claims 
upon the public treasury," provides for the creation of a certificate debt to 
the amount of twenty thousand pounds "proclamation standard;" and for 
discharging the same, that a poll tax two shillings, proclamation, shall be 
levied on each taxable person in the Province, to commence for the year 
1771, and continue until the sum for the above mentioned certificates be 
duly raised." The fifth section of the act, "the better to enable the in- 
dustrious poor of this Province to discharge their annual taxes except the 
sinking taxes heretofore laid," enacts " that inspectors, promissory notes, or 
receipts for the following commodities being good and merchantable, and 
inspected and passed as such," shall be received in discharge, "at the 
rates following, to wit : tobacco, at fifteen shillings per hundred weight ; 
hemp, entitled to a bounty, at forty shillings per hundred weight ; rice, at 
twelve shillings per hundred weight ; indigo, at four shillings per pound ; 
beeswax, at one shilling per pound ; myrtle wax, at eight penceper pound ; 
tallow, at sixpence per pound ; Indian dressed deer skins, not weighing 
less than one pound each, at two shillings and six pence per pound." 

The forces raised to suppress the insurrection, were, with a slight ex- 
exception, from the southern district. The whole appropriation of £20,000 
was about equal to one pound to each head of a family in the northern 
district. The royal tenants, by the services rendered in the subjugation 
of the vassals of Lord Granville, were furnished with a fund for the 

1859.] War of the Regulation. 161 

payment of taxes, in the ratio of two pounds for each head of a family, 
supplied by the latter, in money, or its equivalent in commodities at the 
foregoing rates. The £10,000 appropriated at the same session, for the 
completion of the palace, was raised by " an annual poll tax of two shil- 
lings and sixpence proclamation money" on each " taxable person in the 
Province for, and during, the term of three years," beginning with 1769. 
Two-thirds of this sum were raised in the northern, while the entire 
amount was expended in the southern, district. With these facts before 
us, it will not be difficult to divine the motive which induced the southern 
treasurer to advance, and the treasurer of the northern division to refuse, 
funds to sustain the expenses of the campaign of 1771. 

Thus closes the history of the Regulation during the years 1766, 1767, 
and 1768. Col. Fanning represented Orange in the General Assembly, 
from 1762 to 1768. Thomas Loyd was his colleague during a portion 
of this period, and seems from the narrative of Husband to have been 
scarcely less conspicuous as a military leader in 1768. 

In 1769, Fanning and Loyd were made to yield their places in the 
Assembly to Herman Husband and John Pryor. The latter was a 
Justice of the Peace, and a prominent regulator. 

The history of the Regulation during the subsequent years, until it was 
quenched in blood at Alamance on the 16th May, 1771, may be given 
hereafter, if what has already been written shall excite such a degree of 
interest in the subject, as to justify its continuance. 

[Near the end of 13th lino from top of p. 151, for " after" read " before."] 

162 A Bloody Triumph, [October 


See that large house, so hoar and bold ! 

E'en on that hill, " heaven kissing mound," 

Whose lofty brow I scarce behold, 

So darkly shaded is the ground 

That spreads around, behind, before, 

Forming those bowers that Loves explore. 

That hill, which first towers forth in pride, 

Slopes softly into quiet dale, 

Till in its depths might safely hide 

The timid fawn, which in the vale 

Roams all alone, and quakes with fear 

At every sound that greets the ear — 

The hunter's blast, the whip-poor-will, 

That sings day's mournful requiem, 

The woodman's stroke, the murmuring rill, 

Arouse, or sooth its wakeful dream ; 

For here Dame Nature sits supreme, 

In royal robes of Summer's green. 

Here is a bower most fitly made 

For Care's sojourn, or Love's abode; 

Here hangs rich tapestry of vines, 

Thro' which the grape, like emerald, shines. 

A sparkling brook goes prancing by, 

Crested, it seems, with myriad gems ; 

And as it hums its lullaby, 

The graceful lilly sways and bends 

In grateful token to the breeze, 

That whispering softly, onward flees. 

Here in this nook there sat alone 

A blooming maiden, fair and free — 

Not sad, nor gay, but yet there shone 

A mixture blending care and glee — 

A care that weighed perhaps too light — 

But then youth's face should e'er be bright. 

What profits youth, if, while yet young, 

And fresh, and fragrant with life's sweets, 

To scowling Care must soon be flung 

The wealths that none but he e'er meets ? 

They are his own — there let them rest — 

Old Time's best boon, his sole bequest. 

'Twas evening : and as graceful bent 

The maiden on her grassy seat, 

With face that mirrored thought intent, 

And bust that marked each warm heart-beat — - 

Like snow-drifts on the heaving blades — 

She seemed a sunbeam lost 'mid shades. 

Nature's own child, she sought no charm 

To add to nature's richest gifts ; 

Unknown to fear — for who dare harm 

1859.] A Bloody > Triumph. 16S 

A creature pure as Winter's drifts — ■ 
She roamed the mistress of that grove, 
Whom but to gaze on, was to love. 
Her eye, like violet dipped in dew ; 
Her brow, like work of Grecian art ; 
Her lips, " sweet rubies," told anew 
The love that welled up in her heart. 
Her form, like sylvan nymph of yore, 
Once seen, was ne'er forgotten more. 
I said she was alone — but no — 
Look thro' that darkly-woven screen ! 
Oh ! man — or brute ! What would you do ! 
Would he thus see, and not be seen ? 
No — 'twas the charm of maid and bower 
That chained him thus with magic power. 
The seal of honor on that brow, 
Proclaimed as true as words may tell, 
That he would not so linger now, 
Were his brave soul free from this spell. 
He came not here with forward stare, 
To gaze upon this wood-nymph fair ; 
Nor stayed he long, but stepping forth, 
Gazed fondly on his soul's bright star. 
Her face grew bright, then changed to wrath — 
Alas ! how slight a thought may mar 
The sweet complacency of face, 
Which with the heart so sure keeps pace ! 
"And you here, Ralph? How happens it?" 
Amanda said, with sudden start. 
Be not afraid — I come, sweet Miss, 
To plead for this wild beating heart. 
I sought this path, ' where oft I've followed after 
The rippling music' of your ringing laughter" — 
More he'd have said, but, with a twinkling dart 
Of eye that told of wound that could not last, 
The maiden said, " My answer is — depart ! 
Your own fond hopes yourself wilt surely blast, 
If you withhold the pledge which I demand 
For this rich boon, my precious heart and hand." 
Then with dark brow, as when at dawn 
The night and sunshine fight for sway, 
His nobler self by darkest passions torn, 
He turned his lowering face away. 
" Had you asked aught but this fond hope of life, 
-'Twere done, and that too without selfish strife. 
Rob me of this — 'twould surely ruin me, 
Though I love more than man hath ever loved" — 
" Enough, vain man ; now hear — I banish thee, 
Till that foul blot shall be fore'er removed. 
. It decks thee not — then, let it not deceive — 
You have my answer — say no more, but leave." 
Amanda stayed ; and, shame to tell, 
Smiled on that fleeing, desperate one. 
She must have felt — she knew full well 
The meaning of that trembling tone. 
But blame her not : with prophet eye 
She sees what we may not descry. 

164 A Bloody Triumph. [October 

Night had o'er earth her mantle thrown 
And quelled the busy world in awe ; 
The zephyrs to fierce storm had grown, 
And night's dark demons clashed in war. 
No light save in the lightning's track, 
That made the darkness e'en more black. 
Ralph was alone within his room, 
Pacing, the floor with restless tread. 
He saw, and trembled at, the doom. 
'Twas not the thunder's roar o'er head 
That caused this man to start and quake ; 
But war of passions made him shake. 
" And must I yield my youth's proud boast," 
He said with hopeless voice and chill, 
Must yield what I have prized the most ? 
I will it not, and yet, I will. 
The world despises, she beholds with scorn, 
J like it well — but, ah ! it can't be worn." 
Then with a step that told of firm resolve, 
And with a cheek flushed with the fire within, 
And eye that burned, but never could dissolve 
In sorrow's mist, that oft to joy's akin, 
Approached his desk, and drew forth from its case, 
A razor, flashing hell's glare in his face. 
Then back he stepped — looked long into his glass, 
As one who gazes on what's "loved and lost." 
He lingers yet — but soon that thought will pass — 
But let it come — let the fiend do his worst. 
But see, oh ! see, that murderous steel's pale flash : 
He sluwly raised the glittering blade on high, 
And with a steady hand dipt his moustache. 

1859] St. Pierre and its Wonders. 165 


My brain had been all night busily conjuring up the scenes I should 
view on the morrow. In dreams I was at home ; then, unaccountably, 
the house would become a ship, the chimneys masts, and the level street 
be contorted into white-capped waves ; and, anon, the ship was changed 
into a town, and the upright billows assumed the appearance of canc- 
covered mountains. At a very early hour I awoke, and hastily donning 
my clothes, ascended to the deck of the vessel in which I had slept. Be- 
fore me, in the distance rolled the waves of the Carribean, and I could 
just discern in the offing the white sail of a distant ship. A tiny pilot- 
boat was already on the qui vive, and gliding over the placid waters of 
the bay with its snow-white duck, scarcely larger than a heron's wing, it 
prepared to meet the new comer at the harbor's entrance. Leaning on 
the railing, I gazed long at the scene, and then cast my looks below me. 
So clear the water was, that, though more than sixty feet deep, I could 
see the clean white sand at the bottom, and watch the fish that were play- 
ing far beneath me, revelling in the purity of their native element. 

I turned towards the city, to admire. To my right lay stretched the 
whole length of the harbor; a forest of shipping overspread the lower part 
of the bay; here a sturdy ship from Britain lifted its huge masts high in 
air, and extended its flag to the early breeze; here a gaudily painted 
French vessel discharged its cargo, and a French man-of-war on the ex- 
treme right was grinning fiendishly from its port-holes upon all around it. 
Then I gazed aloft at our own loved ensign, spreading out its broad folds, 
and I felt proud and happy. But my own was not the only American 
vessel in port; the same flag waving from the masts of half a dozen differ- 
ent merchantmen bore witness to the commercial industry of my country, 
and gave me the 'assurance that I had more than one friend in this strange 

In front of me was the city of St. Pierre, built upon an ascent so steep, 
that I from the deck could trace the streets overhanging each other; rows 
of green trees adorned them, and rendered a promenade even in this warm 
climate a very pleasant labor. The houses, painted white with red roofs, 
intermingled not ungratefully with the trees ; while far above the town, 
on the mountain side, large fields of sugar-cane added liveliness to the 
scene. To the left, in the distance slumbered the volcano with its fire- 
wasted crater, looking like an angel of destruction hovering over the city. 

168 St. Pierre and its Wonders. [October 

While yet feasfcing on the beautiful landscape, the loud ringing of many 
bells proclaimed the matin hour ; and the good Catholics, leaving their 
occupations, wended their way to their respective places of devotion. I 
was not long permitted to enjoy my thoughts; the Captain of a neighbor- 
ing vessel, which was an American, hailed me : 

" Hallo ! on board the Frances. Call your Captain, and let's go ashore." 

I was about to reply, when an " Aye, aye," from Captain F , showed 

that he was up and stirring. Soon we were all ready ; we lowered the 
boat, jumped in, and a couple of sailors seized the oars. Our neighbor 
started at the same time ; and, as the wharf to which we were going was 
some distance off, a challenge for a race was given and accepted. 

"A race, a race!" cried Captain F . "Pull cheerily, boys — a 

bottle of ? Muscat/ if we beat." 
"And I will give another," said I. 

Thus exhorted, the sailors did their utmost; every nerve was stretched, 
the stout oars bent and cracked, and we glided right merrily over the 
water. But our rival was not behindhand ; I could hear his low words 
of encouragement, that always fall upon a sailor's heart like a spark upon 
tinder; and I knew by the ripple at the bow of his boat, that it was mov- 
ing very rapidly. 

"All right! In oars. Stand by, one of you, to ward off and make 

fast," said Captain F , while our neighbor was giving similar orders. 

Both of the boats touched the wharf so nearly at the same time, that 
it was impossible to decide which was ahead — of course, both sides claim 
■ed the victory. The crowd then repaired to the "American Quarters," 

kept by Madame D ; the promised wine was bought for the sailors, 

who forthwith began to make merry. Here we met the remainder of the 
crowd, which had assembled according to agreement, to determine upon 
what places we should visit. While we were yet discussing the different 
propositions, Madmoiselle Marie, the daughter of our landlady, returned 
from matins. She was a beautiful girl of eighteen, with the peculiar 
features of the South; but her dark eyes sparkled, her hair was glossy 
black, her complexion a rich olive, and her step was elastic and graceful. 
" Come, Miss Maria," said a hard-favored, weather-beaten old Captain, 
from Nova Scotia — the land of Blue Noses — "come, tell us where to go; 
we want to see the curiosities." 

" Bon jour, Messieurs!" said the blushing Marie. " Le Jardin has 
many bonny sights." 

"Young man," whispered the Nova Scotian tome; "if I were not 
married, I'd court that girl — by George, she's pretty." 

I agreed with him as to her beauty, and tried to console him with the 

1859.] St. Pierre and its Wonders. 167 

hope, that he might yet outlive his present partner, and come to claim the 
fair Frenchwoman. 

" She'll be married before then/' said he. " Some dastardly, ugly 
Frencher will carry her off; and, I forgot, I think too much of my wife 
to harbor such a thought. Don't you tell any one what I've said." 

I assured him of secrecy on my part, but, in the meanwhile, the rest of 
the crowd had determined to visit the Jardin. No sooner had we come 

to a conclusion than we started for the office of M. C , our consignee, 

who had promised to act as cicerone on the occasion. He was waiting 
for ug, and we were soon on the way. The streets of St. Pierre are very 
narrow, seldom being over thirty feet in width ; the houses narrow and 
high, and placed very close together; and almost every house, from the 
number of its inmates, seemed to be occupied by several families. In 
every street running down the slope were sewers, which, filled with water 
from the mountain springs, washed the filth of the streets into the bay. 
Troops of half-clothed negro children were running hither and thither, 
while their mothers were promenading the streets, shaking their heads to 
display their ponderous ear-rings, and stopping to jabber at every shop 
they passed. Small detachments of gens d' amies, in French uniform, 
with heavy swords buckled around their waists, were sauntering along — 
the policemen of the city. Here an awkward, creaking cart, drawn by 
four or five half-starved horses, was carrying a load of lumber into the 
country ; and there a negro in tattered garments was bearing an arm-full 
of sugar cane to some petty purchaser. Everything was animated ; and 
almost everybody was smoking. We passed the Barracks, but my com- 
panions were in too great a hurry to permit me to stop, although I greatly 
desired to examine them. 

Suddenly turning around the base of a very steep hill, we lost the city 
to sight, and immerged into the open country. The scene was beautiful; 
the undulating landscape, the mountain-sides waving with their crops of 
cane, the valleys, through which meandered little streams, were alive with 
washerwomen from the city, who were hanging, their white garments in 
the sun to dry. Busily viewing these objects, I was lost in thought, 

when the words Sainte Marie, spoken by M. C , caught my car. 

We were passing a little chapel in front of which was a marble statue of 
the Virgin. Our guide had pulled off his hat, and just in front of the 
statue he bowed lowly, and muttered a short French prayer. Involunta- 
rily, I too doffed my hat and bowed. The crowd had separated into squads 

of two, and I was with M. C , seeking shelter from the hot sun-rays 

under his friendly umbrella. 

"Why is it, sir," said I, "that we see so few ladies in the streets? I 
think this would be a delightful promenade during your balmy evenings." 

168 St. Pierre and its Wonders. [Ootober 

"Ah ! Monsieur, this is not like your country; the negroes are too free 

" I am surprised to hear you say so; I thought the French were proud 
of having liberated their slaves." 

"And so they are — on the continent; hut we who see so much of the 
negroes are heartily sick of their insolence and ill-breeding. The libera- 
tion of her slaves was one of the worst strokes of policy that France was 
ever guilty of." 

" You speak of their insolence ; are they ever very insulting ?" 

" Yes, always. A lady dares not go alone in the street ; and not 
unfrequently a male companion cannot protect her from direct insults. 
This is the cause of their remaining nearly always at home." 

11 The negroes presume upon their freedom, I suppose." 

" We have discovered that two distinct races cannot live in harmony 
in the same place, when they both have equal political privileges, and 
when one of these races is the African." 

M. C spoke English very correctly, and I was beginning to enjoy 

his conversation very much, when we arrived at the gates of the " Garden." 
A neat house where the Garden-keeper lived, was near; and as soon as 
our party had reached the gates, our guide left us for a moment, to get 
the keeper's permission for us to enter. A stout negro brought the key, 
and threw open the gates to our entrance. 

If the scene without was beautiful, that within the Jardin was 
surpassingly so. Rare exotics, and beautiful flowers" tastily arranged, 
appealed to our senses, and forced us to exclaim, " How beautiful !" The 
walks were scrupulously clean of rubbish, and carefully gravelled ; each 
side of the walks was adorned with flowers, and in the centres of many of 
the beds fountains were throwing up jets of pure water, whose falling 
spray formed a hundred rainbows. Delicately chiseled statues, too, were 
standing here and there, the perpetual sentinels over the beauty sleeping 
around them. Orange trees laden with luscious yellow fruit were contin- 
ually tempting our hands to pluck them ; and all the varied luxuries of 
the tropics were growing within our reach. Now and then a chameleon 
would dash across our path, and reclining full-stretched along the branch 
of some nutmeg tree, would challenge our attention, by assuming in turn 
all its diversified hues. At last we came to the wilder part of the Garden, 
where hills rose abruptly steep, and cascades, dashing from their summits, 
fell into the cool basins below ; and where the " Mountain Cabbage" tree 
raised its branchless trunk a hundred feet in height — its top surmounted by 
a leafy knob. 

We passed an hour or two wandering over the Garden, and admiring 
its beauties ; and when it became necessary to return, we were loth to leave 

1859.] Criticism in General — Newspaper Criticism. 169 

so much of loveliness behind. I felt yet fresh and vigorous, and proposed 
to visit the volcano, four miles off. 

Monsieur C looked at me steadily for a moment, and with a figura- 

tiveness that would have well become an Indian, asked : 

" Are you an eagle, to fly up those steep rocks ?" 

"None of us could endure the labor," said the Nova Scotian. 

I desired very much to go, but I knew that if his iron muscles were 
powerless for the attempt, my weak powers would be soon exhausted. Our 
return was rapid, for all of us were hungry ; and we were soon wending 
our way along the streets. M. C went home to lunch, and the re- 
mainder of us hastened to the house of Madame D , where Marie's 

fair hands prepared us a French dinner — rolls, sardines, garlic and claret. 

After dinner, we adjourned to the deck of a New England vessel, where, 
between puffs from fine Havana cigars, we discussed our country and the 
news ; and where the Nova Scotian put me to sleep, spinning a long yarn 
about making cheeses. We ate supper with the New England captain, 
and afterwards the crowd went ashore to see a " fandango," but I, having 
no curiosity to see such sights, returned to the Frances, and was soon 
deeply studying Plutarch's Lives. 


Since the time when the " blind old bard of Scio" first immortalized 
human valor and wisdom in his account of the Trojan War, there have 
been men who have gained no mean fame, by subjecting the works of au- 
thors to the test of criticism, and by advising the public as to their value 
or worthlessness. But since the invention of printing, and the subsequent 
improvements in that art have increased incalculably the general know- 
ledge of mankind, has this class of men increased in numbers. Nor was 
it an idle office ; year after year, a ceaseless tide of books began to flow 
upon the world ; the mass of mankind, busied with their ordinary pur- 
suits of agriculture or commerce, were unable to read even a small portion 
of the volumes that were being annually published; and, consequently, 
were unable to decide upon the comparative claims of each work to their 
consideration. Mankind must read, and yet they knew not which books 
were true, and which erroneous. In this state of affairs, it became abso- 
lutely necessary that some persons should make it their sole business to 
read the publications, and to publish to the world what was worthy of at- 
tention, and what should be avoided. 


170 Criticism in General — Newspaper Criticism. [October 

It is hardly necessary to state that the office of critic could be well filled 
by only those men, whom a thorough education and a long and careful peru- 
sal of the best writers, had fitted for it. Evidently, they must have been 
men of sound sense, eminent impartiality, careful education, and masters 
in the departments which they were to preside over ; for to them the pub- 
lic entrusted the guidance of their minds, and the formation of their opin- 
ions. An office so honorable and so responsible, called for unusual talents ; 
and the best minds of every civilized country turned their attention to 
criticism. Here was a field which required the profoundest thought, and 
the most intense and constant application to render it fertile. In every 
department of literature many weeds had sprung up and grown to an as- 
tonishing size, from the previous ill preparation of reviewers. Fallacies, 
deeply laid, and boldly asserted, which were too well calculated to lead 
astray the unwary reader, had to be met and rebutted. In Mental Phil- 
osophy and Ethics, in Astronomy and the two great branches of Physics, 
Natural Philosophy and Chemistry, a false method of reasoning had been 
adopted and followed. Luther began the great revival, by the Keforma- 
tion in religion. Bacon followed, and boldly attacked the deductive phil- 
osophy that has so long ruled the reasonings of men. But not until the 
clear intellect of Hume, and his unscrupulous carrying of principles to 
their ultimate consequences, had plunged the dagger into the heart of a 
faulty metaphysics, did purity of reasoning arise in all its loveliness. Re- 
ligion, like gold purified of its drosses, was all the lovelier for its purifica- 
tion ; and for the first time men learned to reason, not from theory, but 
from facts. 

This was the work of true criticism ; it had performed an important 
part in liberating the minds of men from the chains of old superstitions — 
this done, it began to degenerate. Men utterly incapable of correct think- 
ing on any subject, unwilling to undergo the labor of collecting all the 
facts relating to the subject under their consideration, yet envying the 
just fame of those who had freed the world from error, crowded around 
the shrine of Criticism, and drove the true philosophers from the place. A 
change too had come over the spirit and the fortunes of literature. Hith- 
erto, the nobility of the world had patronised genius, but now the patron- 
age passed into the hands of the people — a change, I fear, for the worse ; 
for previously, only one man — and that an educated one — had to be flat- 
tered ; but now, the vitiated palate of an ignorant populace had to be 
tickled by choice little morsels of praise. For a time all went well ; the 
people in their new position were pleased with even a little of the unwon- 
ted praise. Historians, poets, and philosophers — some of them men of 
unsurpassable talent — flourished and multiplied under the fostering care 
of the public. Many new and brilliant gems were added to the casket of 

1859.] Criticism in General — Newspaper Criticism. 171 

literature ; and many deathless names were given to history. The people 
began to perceive their power and grew more exacting in their demands J 
the public taste must be humored, flaming advertisments put at every 
corner of the streets to attract the eye, and funny remarks inscribed there- 
upon to please the fancy ; and truth must be perverted to suit the vicious 
taste of ignorance. 

Matters have been growing continually worse, till the history of very 
modern literature is a disgrace to humanity. The newspapers circulating 
through every part of every civilized community, might be made the con- 
veyors of valuable information to eA 7 ery branch of society ; but how they 
have been, and are, still perverted ! No longer men of gigantic talents, 
and deep research, devote their time to trimming and lopping off the faulty 
branches of the beautiful tree of knowledge ; but ignorant upstarts are 
constantly pruning it with noxious weeds. • No longer great mental en- 
dowments, long experience, and unwavering partiality in recommending 
truth and opposing error, characterize the critic ; but party rage, personal 
antipathies, and perfect ignorance on almost every subject — these consoli- 
dated, form what moderns call criticism. Nor is this a mere groundless 
assertion — it appeals to the consciousness of every one, and must wrest 
from each heart that is honest, a decided confirmation- This is the age 
of pandering to all the worst passions of ignorance ; when flash newspa- 
pers are the most successful ; when flash books are fashionable; and when 
flash men and women are the most popular of all beings — in a word, when 
the greatest humbugs are the greatest favorites of the world. 

Byron thought that to 

" Believe a woman, or an epitaph," 

was the summit of human folly ; but now the state of things is changed. 
Women and epitaphs are perfect models of truth, compared with newspa- 
per advertisements. Who is so devoid of sense, as to believe that either 
the puffs, or the abuse of newspapers have anything of truth in them? 
Let us take a few examples. Two politicians, opponents, address their 
constituents : Mr. A., the editor of the Whig paper, declares that his man 
is a perfect orator, and that his speech could not be surpassed in eloquence, 
while his opponent is as ugly in body, as he is lame in speech. Mr. B., 
the Democratic editor, entirely reverses the compliments ; and the public, 
the sensible part of it, are bound to believe that both Mr. A. and Mr. B. 
are humbugs. Again, a book is published, and a copy sent to the editors 
of different papers ; by modern courtesy the publication is complimented, 
and by their ignorance the editors generally are utterly incapable of telling 
whether it is good or bad. Many of them, sensible of their incompetency 
to criticise justly, puff the book without opening it ; and not three in a 

172 Criticism in General — Newspaper Criticism. [October 

hundred carefully peruse it; and not more than one of the three is capa- 
ble of judging justly, and of giving sensible reasons for his decision. 

What an essential difference, then, there is between this class of critics 
and those first mentioned ! And what a difference in the results of these 
dissimilar methods of criticism ! In the one case truth was the great ob- 
ject of desire, and purity of thought and language, and correctness of rea- 
soning, were the results ; in the other popularity is the motive power, and 
a grand system of puffery or reasonless party-abuse results. Then, people 
knew from the advice of competent judges what books were reliable ; 
now, each man has to gain like information from his own experience. A 
mania for book-making runs riot over the land, and a perfect mania for 
book-praising has seized the understanding of every critic. Trash collec- 
ted from every corner under heaven is swept together, and imbodied into 
a book ; a flaming advertisement heralds its approach into the world, a 
grand puff receives it, and blows it again to every corner, to be re-collec- 
ted by some aspirant after fame. Novels and novelets are born ; and each 
proves to be the prolific parent of a horde of children, resembling their 
progenitors in every respect. And under the present condition of criti- 
cism, there is no shadow of a hope for a better state of affairs ; each year, 
meanwhile ; is burdening the world with folly, and giving mankind dross 
In exchange for solid money. Who, it may again be asked, believes a 
newspaper advertisement ? Who believes the thousand wondrous cures, 
of a thousand quackeries ? Or who reads a book on the recommendation 
of a paper ? And yet, how much good could a newspaper do ! How much 
of varied knowledge could be sent weekly, daily, to the home alike of the 
humble and the great ; how many sweet thoughts to cheer the sickened 
heart ; and how much of hope and encouragement to the despairing ; how 
many darkened minds might be enlightened, and how many useful max- 
ims inculcated ! Then, indeed, newspapers would bless society and the 
world ; then would flashery wither before the stern frown of Truth ; then 
criticism, candid and impartial, would flourish in the land, and mankind 
become wiser, and happier, and better. 

1859.] " Mali<jnitati Faha Species Libertatis Inest." 173 


We are all prone to speak uncharitably of those who do not exactly 
conform to our notions of propriety. But we forget that all are created 
equal. Our beneficent Creator has granted to every one certain inaliena- 
ble rights, among which the liberty of speech is not the least important. 
We have both the physical and mental ability to injure or benefit those 
around us. Although, we are free, yet our freedom does not extend so 
far as to allow us to hurt our neighbor ; for his and our inalienable rights 
proceeding from the same benevolent Author, must necessarily harmonize. 
We would very much deprecate to see the liberty of speech in the least 
curtailed; for we regard it as one of the greatest boons which any govern- 
ment can secure to its subjects. At the same, we are aware that the no- 
tion that our tongues are our own and we will say what we please, is prev- 
alent among us. But they are our own in the same sense that our hands, 
or any thing that we have, is our own. The mere fact that a dagger be- 
longs to us, gives us no right to plunge it into the bosom of our neighbor 
without cause. We are bound to do good and not evil. The same au- 
thority which restrains us from evil, enjoins on us the duty of doing good. 
The apostle James tells us that the tongue is an unruly evil ; though a 
man may tame all kinds of beasts, birds, and serpents, yet the tongue no 
man can tame. 

The firmness to speak our minds, on proper occasions, without the fear 
or favor of men, is certainly a desirable feature in every person's charac- 
ter. At certain times, there is a nobleness of mind exhibited in giving 
free expression to our honest convictions, and becoming the uncompromis- 
ing defender of the truth. It commands the admiration of our friends 
and the respect of our enemies. We loath, from the bottom of our heart, 
those low-minded, cringing, sycophantic and mealy-mouthed parisites, who 
are mighty in words, when danger is remote, but are found wanting when 
the time for action comes. Should you see them where their enemy could - 
not hear them, they would make you believe that they were as brave as 
Ajax — furious as lions, and would devour their enemy, "soul and body," 
at first sight. But what a wonderful change does his appearance make ! 
— their courage oozea out at their fingers' ends — they become as gentle as 
lambs — they meet him with a bland smile upon their countenances and 
honied words on their lipg. With regard to all such characters as these, 
we think the language of the poet is very appropriate : 
"Who can one thing think and another tell, 
My heart detests him as the gates of hell." 

174 " Malignitati Falsa Species Libertatis Inest." [October 

Those who blab out every thing they think, before they know what 
they have thought about, do not deserve the respect and kind considera- 
tion of right-minded men. Many value themselves very highly on this 
account, and exultingly tell us they are no cringing sycophants. They 
have lost that respect for the feelings of others which they wish to have 
' shown for theirs. How often is the ingenuous mind pained deeply by un- 
kind and uncalled for expressions! How often have we seen the tender 
feelings and nice sensibilities of those around us wounded for no other os- 
tensible reason than to prove to others that they are bold and fearless cham- 
pions of their own dear rights. To acquire this unenviable reputation, 
they would tear asunder the sacred bonds of brotherly love — kindle anew 
the fires of strife upon the domestic altar — create dissensions in the 
Church, and set whole neighborhoods " by the ears." This is a poor com- 
pensation, we skould think, for all their trouble, even were they never to 
experience any of the evils which they stir up ; but, by a wise provision 
in the economy of nature, the clouds of wrath, which the wicked are in- 
strumental in collecting, most frequently burst with the greatest fury upon 
their own devoted heads. 

Then, it behooves us all to consider these things well, and let our words 
be few but pregnant with meaning, feeling, with the ancient bard, " nescit 
vox missa reverti." Words are potent things. Who can duly estimate 
the good or evil which a single word has done, or may yet do ? The wise 
man tells us that the words of the wise, when fitly spoken, " are as goads ;" 
" like apples of gold in pictures of silver." For our own part, we think 
that, in our intercourse with the world, it is a good rule " to think much, 
observe men and things accurately, and say little." 

In conclusion, we would say to one and all in language elicited from 
one of old upon a momentous occasion : " consider of it, take advice, and 
speak your minds." May all those who examine these few crude thoughts 
be circumspect, in this matter, being duly impressed with this solemn 
truth : that every idle word we speak, and every loose thought we indulge, 
will be brought up against us in the great day of final accounts, when the 
heavens and the earth shall have passed away, and time itself shall have 
been swallowed up in eternity. 

1859.] Suites' Rights. 175 



To the philosophic statesman, and especially to democratic rulers, this 
must he a subject of the deepest interest; since upon it hangs the ruin, 
or the happiness and prosperity of nations. The experience of men hand- 
ed down for two thousand years has not yet enabled our rulers to adjust 
the cpiestion satisfactorily; and it is to be accounted for only by taking 
into consideration the selfishness and the stubbornness of men with sepa- 
rate, and sometimes, conflicting interests. Had the States of Greece been 
bound together by a central government, the usurpation of every tyrant 
could have been successfully resisted. Philip of Macedon, and his fa- 
mous son would have beat in vain at the gates of Grecian freedom ; and 
even Eome's proud legions would have been driven back by troops as 
proud as they. It is not difficult to trace the present abject condition of 
Greece to the want of a community of interest among the separate States. 
Much of the blood that stained the plains of that far-famed land was spilt 
in what may well be called a private quarrel among neighbors. When 
united against a foreign foe their strength and valor were irresistible — this 
was evinced in many a well-fought field. 

The Romans, too, after the expulsion of their Kings, tried a democrat- 
ical government. But here the fault was exactly opposite to that of their 
Grecian neighbors. Rome was the centre of a vast republic — all power 
was there centralized and compressed. Accustomed to the yoke of kings, 
the Romans naturally feared to entrust too much power at first to the 
people; and when they had become settled in their new government, they 
feared to embark in another revolution. 

It was easily foreseen by the ambitious and unscrupulous sons of re- 
publican Rome, that he must be master of all Italy, who could control 
affairs in the city. And hence Sylla, and Marius, and Caesar had only to 
subdue the city, and the Roman world was at their feet. 

But the present century witnessed the death of a republic whose labors 
convulsed the whole of Europe. The French Revolution of 1792, the 
offspring of a degenerate and tyrannical monarchy, will ever be a stain in 
the history of the world. The people bred to fear the frowns of an almost 
absolute sovereign, wildly, inhumanly indulged their fierce passions ; and 
with freedom inscribed upon their banners, committed crimes that com- 
mon humanity shudders at. Liberty soon degenerated into license, and 
every throne in Europe shook with the cries of a lawless, but powerful, 

176 State*' Rights. [October 

anarchy. A reaction came ; the crown of individual sovereignty fell from 
the heads of the infatuated populace, and the " Eeign of Terror " was 
stigmatized by the unwarrantable shedding of more innocent blood, than 
the whole race of Bourbons had been guilty of. Paris to the revolution- 
ists was the centre of the world, as it was the centre of power, and where 
there was fear of a public execution, the hired assassin did the work with 
impunity. It was not strange, then, that Bonaparte found it so easy to 
become emperor, when his unparalleled victories had made him the most 
conspicuous object in France. The common people saw no difference be- 
tween a republic and an empire ; for under either, they were equally im- 
potent. The submitting his election to the people was but a trick of 
policy in Napoleon ; for even without their consent he was evidently de- 
termined to wear the crown of Charlemagne. Scarcely ten years ago an- 
other revolution expelled Louis Phillipe from the throne of France, but the 
same evil of a government too centralizing in its effects has placed Louis 
Napoleon at the head of affairs. 

Thus we plainly see the dangerous effects of both extremes fully exem- 
plified. And now let us turn to the history of our own country, fully 
conscious of the great importance of preserving the golden mean. The 
framers of our Constitution were doubtless well aware of the important 
charge imposed upon them. States embracing every variety of climate 
and of interest were represented in the Congress. In some of the States 
the manufacturing interest was predominant, others were almost wholly 
devoted to commerce, and others still were necessarily confined to agricul- 
ture ; and even the different sections of the same State were vitally op- 
posed in interest. Besides these natural disadvantages, Congress had to 
contend with all the antipathies of the nation. The people had just freed 
themselves from the shackles of monarchy, and they had a natural tenden- 
cy to rush into the other extreme of complete license. Many true patriots 
and educated men were opposed to a central government, fearing lest its 
centralizing tendency would change it into a monarchy. They desired 
that the several States should form- separate republics, and be bound to 
the others by no other ties than those of treaties and local interests. Others 
were in favor of a strong central government, and Hamilton well defended 
the principles he espoused. After a long and thorough discussion the 
Constitution was adopted, and submitted to the people for ratification. 

It is needless to follow the struggles of the federalists and antivfederal- 
ists for the supremacy. The question of State sovereignty has not yet 
been decided, and almost within our own memories, it has sprung up again, 
more vigorous than ever from its torpor. Calhoun, the apostle of State 
supremacy, supported with all the power of his tongue and pen, and all 
the influence of his character, the doctrine of States' rights, and had 

1859.] States' Rights. 177 

there not been a "Webster to rebut his arguments, America might have 
emulated the fate of Greece. 

But it is well that this spirit should be kept alive in our land. Let all 
opposition to a consolidated Union be withdrawn, and a monarch will soon 
preside over the destinies of the nation ■ or if in the ardent support of 
State Sovereignty, we forget to throw a ballancing power into the central 
government, anarchy and civil war must soon desolate our country. The 
golden medium must be preserved ; the slightest wavering to one side, or 
the other, must be in some measure fatal to our liberties and happiness. 
We cannot hope that the dismembered fragments of the Union would form 
a government like England, where the constant struggle between the peo- 
ple and the nobility preserves a just ballance of power; nor can we expect 
that the Union can resolve itself into thirty-two kingdoms bloodlessly. 
Our only hope is in remaining a united people. Give power to Congress, 
but bestow upon the separate States an equivalent power, and we need 
fear no enemies within or without our boundaries. We may continue to 
enjoy life, liberty, and religion as long as the world shall last; and the 
Union shall continue to prosper and increase, till the soul-inspiring watch- 
word, liberty, shall leap, like an electric spark, from heart to heart ; till 
every nation shall catch the word, and hurling their oppressors to the dust, 
shall emulate our example ; and when earth is blessed with religion and 
freedom, then may come that blissful era, when God himself shall govern 

us on earth. 



178 College Record. [October 


Since last session many changes have been brought about in College. Men 
with whom three years of the close intercourse of student life had made us 
well acquainted, and some of whom we had learned to love, have departed 
from us, and gone to the great world-battle ; and, in their stead, new faces are 
seen, and are already beginning to become familiar to us. Of our Professors, 
too, one has left us, and another is preparing to go. Dr. Wheat, Professor 
of Logic and Rhetoric, has accepted a pastoral call at Little Rock, Arkansas, 
and Dr. Shipp, Professor of History, has accepted the Presidency of Wofford 
College, South Carolina. We greatly regret that the University has been de- 
prived of the valuable services of these gentlemen, and ice are indeed sorry to 
lose such kind • instructors ; we can but wish them success and happiness 
wherever they go. There have been other changes also in the Faculty, Mr. 
Graham having resigned the Tutorship of Mathematics, was elected Tutor of 
Latin ; and Mr. Morrow, of Chapel Hill, has been chosen Tutor of Mathe- 
matics, to supply the vacancy made by the resignation of Mr. Graham. 

We were not here during the vacation, but those who remained testify to 
the success of our class-mate, Mr. Robert E. Cooper, of South Carolina, in his 
address, on the Fourth of July. Mr. Henry Hogan, of Chapel Hill, read the 
Mecklenburg, and Mr. Lewis Bond, of Tennessee, the National, Declaration 
of Independence. 

In the history of nations, those periods are deemed the most prosperous and 
happy which afford the fewest salient points to the historian ; and if the same 
principle applies to College, we have reason to congratulate ourselves upon 
the scanty materials this session has furnished us for continuing the history 
of the University. Running our eyes down the chapter of events, we can dis- 
cover no dire conspiracies of Sophomores, nor bad behavior of Freshmen in 
general. It is true, and it always has been, and always will be, true, that 
there are in College, a few spirits the incarnation of rowdyism and insubordi- 
nation ; but, happily, they are weak in numbers and weaker in the esteem of 
their companions. It is, moreover, true that as long as there is a college in 
the world, Seniors will oversleep themelves, and get suspended for being ab- 
sent from prayers ; that Juniors, who are candidates for office, will treat too 
much — take our advice, and the benefit of our experience, ye office-seekers, 
and treat not ; that new-born Sophomores will misbehave in the chapel ; and 
that Freshmen will make a noise at night in the " campus," by way of getting 
accustomed to the place ; but, as a general thing, college is extremely quiet 
and well-behaved. 

We cannot forbear noticing the improvements that Chapel Hill has seen 
since we joined college, three years ago. New houses are springing up all 

1859.] College Record. 179 

over the village, for the accommodation of students ; and the trustees are caus- 
ing to he erected two new huildings, hoth of which are being rapidly com- 
pleted, and promise to add much to the beauty of the Campus, as well as to 
the convenience of the students. These improvements testify to the flourish- 
ing condition of the University, and we hail them as so many harbingers of 
future prosperity. The classes of college, too, .are very large — the Sophomore 
is perhaps the largest that has ever been here — and almost every day is adding 
to their numbers. The friends of the University may rejoice at its rapid in- 

We have been favored, this session, with visits from several distinguished 
gentlemen ; among whom Rev. Dr. Hooper delivered a sermon in the College 
Chapel. Mr. W. R. Hunter, "the Children's Friend," of South Carolina, de- 
livered a lecture in the Chapel-on the subject of Temperance ; on which occa- 
sion the Faculty gave a recess from recitation, that all might hear him. The 
attendance was unusually large. Bishop Polk, of Louisiana, preached a ser- 
mon in the Chapel, on Sept. 18th. Mr, Griswold, of Florida, has been 
delighting large audiences at his musical concerts. Mr. G. is said by connois- 
seurs to be an excellent musician, having a good voice, a fine ear for music, 
and a long experience in his profession. 

The State Fair. — We return our thanks to Wilson W. WHiTAKER,Esq., Sec- 
retary of the Executive Committee of the State Agricultural Society, for com- 
plimentary tickets. We will have at least one representative at the Fair, 
probably more than one, and we shall depute to them the business of ob- 
serving everything and of enjoying themselves ; sorry are we that we cannot 
attend en corps. 

Omission. — On account of an error in the books of the Faculty, we omitted, 
in the list of those who were entitled to distinctions, the name of Mr. James 
Polk, of the Freshman Class, who is entitled to the third distinction ; and of 
Mr. J. C. Dobbin, of the partial course, who is entitled to the first distinction 
in all the Senior studies. 

The Ball-Managers. — The Ball-Managers have requested a little corner in 
our Magazine. Hear what they have to say: "We are ready, willing and 
anxious, to see and settle with those who have not yet paid their subscriptions 
to the Ball." 

180 Editors' Tabic. [October 


Our Engraving for October. — We present to our readers, this month, the 
portrait of Rev. Fordyce Mitchell Hubbard, Professor of the Latin Language 
and Literature in this University. He was born in Hampshire county, Massa- 
chusetts, January, 1810. At a very early age he joined Williams College, in 
that State, and received his diploma during his eighteenth year. He served his 
Alma Mater for a while after his graduation in the capacity of Tutor, and having 
studied law several years, was associated for a while with Dr. Cogswell in the 
Bound Hill School at Northampton. Erom that place he removed to Boston, 
and was for several years the teacher of a Classical School there. While re- 
siding in Boston, he published, for the use of schools, an edition of Catullus, 
and also an edition of Dr. Belknap's American Biography, with copious notes 
and additions. 

Having turned his attention to the ministry, he was ordained by Bishop 
Griswold in November, 1841, and accepting a pastoral call from Christ Church, 
New-Berne, in this State, he removed there with his family in 1842, and en- 
tered upon the discharge of his duties as Bector. After laboring successfully 
there, and gaining the sincere esteem of all who knew him, he was placed by 
Bishop Ives, in the summer of 1847, in charge of the Episcopal School just 
started in Wake county. While acting in this capacity, he was elected in 
January, 1849, to the chair of the Latin Language and Literature in this Uni- 
versity, vacated by the resignation of Mr. J. DeBcrniere Hooper ; and since 
that time has been actively engaged in fulfilling the duties of his office. 

Professor Hubbard has thus devoted his entire life to the business of in- 
struction ; and has ever manifested the greatest interest in the cause of edu- 
cation, not at the University only, but throughout the entire State. And his 
assiduous labors to promote the efficiency of common schools, entitle him to the 
gratitude of all. As an instructor, he endeavors to instill into his pupils the 
general principles of language, and the precise meanings of words, aiming to 
inspire a taste for purity of language and correctness of expression. He has 
connected himself closely with the literary history of North Carolina, and 
written several papers touching its political history, e. g. the Life of Gov. 
Davie, in Sparks' American Biography ; but it is to be regretted, that, in the 
general dearth of State literature, he has not devoted himself more exclusive- 
ly to the composition of works that must have done honor to our State, and 
perpetuated his opinions and his name. The position of Mr. Hubbard, as 
Professor, affords him, it is true, an extensive influence, in enabling him to 
impart a portion of his learning and his critical judgment to young men from 
all parts of the South ; but the lectures of a recitation-room are necessarily brief, 
and none but their chief points can be remembered — their imbodiment into a 

1859.] Editors Talk. • 181 

book is much more desirable. With these remarks, we shall close our sketch — 
Vicentes non licet nimium laudare. 

War of the Regulation — Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence — 
Battle of Moore's Creek. — For our leading article we are indebted to Hon. 
David L. Swain ; it is the substance of a lecture delivered by that gentleman 
before the late Educational Convention, held at Newbern. We feel confident 
that not only every North Carolinian, but every patriot in every place, will 
read with the deepest interest the story of the first struggle for freedom in 
America. The War of the Regulation forms an important era in the history 
of North Carolina ; and we believe that no man is more conversant with the 
history of that early period, than Gov. Swain ; and, consequently, that no one 
is better able to give an interesting and succinct account of those times. 
Doubtless our readers are as highly gratified as ourselves, at his promise 
to continue the subject at some subsequent time; and we only hope that 
lie will not delay it too long a period — we are very anxious to know more of 
our brave ancestors. As a proof of the interest now awakened in this subject, 
Mr. Campbell, the resident editor of the " Educational Journal," has asked 
for, and obtained from us, the advanced sheets, that it may appear also in his 
issue for October. 

However some men may affect to regard the Regulation as the petty insur- 
rection of a few countrymen, we think that the most important results may 
be traced to it ; for at the Battle of Alamance, Americans first learned to die 
for their rights ; and if example is worth anything, this event surely kept 
aglow the fires of liberty, and paved the way for the final Revolution. It 
shows us, too, what was the spirit of those iron men ; and how well they had 
preserved the sacred principles of freedom ever connected with the Saxon race. 
We are not accustomed to judge of the importance of an event by the numbers 
engaged in it, so much as the principles which are at stake, and the results 
which the carrying out of these principles are to entail upon us. We feel con- 
fident that Herman Husband could not be an unprincipled rioter, and this be- 
lief is strengthened Avhen we have good reasons for saying that Dr. Franklin 
was the prime-mover of the Regulation ; and surely no one will dare accuse 
that philosophic statesman of encouraging an unmeaning rebellion. We be- 
lieve that this article, in which Gov. Swain so ably treats of the Regulation 
and its supporters, will throw an additional dignity upon the events of that 
period ; and we most heartily recommend it to the careful perusal of all our 

The Historical Society of the University is indebted to Robert E. Martin, 
Esq., Clerk of the Supreme Court of Georgia, for the only copy supposed to be 
extant of a sermon preached by the Rev. Dr. Cummins, at Greensborough, Ga., 
on the 4th July, 1819. Mr. Martin resides at present at Milledgeville, but was 
then a citizen of Greensborough, and heard the discourse delivered. We sub- 
join a copy of the title page : 

"The Rise, Progress, Maturity and Fall of the Jewish State and Church; 

182 • Editors' Table [October 

and the Rise, Progress and Prospects of the United States. An Anniversary 
Sermon, delivered at Greensboro', (Ga.) on a Sabbath, the 4th day of July, 
1819. By the Rev. Francis Cummins, A. M. Published at the request of a 
respectable number. Greensborough : Printed by Patrick L. Robinson." 

The value of the discourse, as a historical document, consists in the inci- 
dental evidence afforded by the brief notes appended to it, with relation to the 
motives which gave rise to the Regulation, the leading facts connected with 
the Mecklenburg Declaration, and the question so ably examined in our pages 
with respect to the command at Moore's Creek. With the exception of the 
publication by Col. Polk, in the Raleigh Register of the 30th of April, 1819, 
this note of Dr. Cummins is the earliest printed reference of which we have 
any knowledge to the Mecklenburg proceedings. Brief as the notice is, it 
presents to our minds the true solution of the difficulties arising from the fact 
that authenitcity is claimed for two series of Resolutions — the first as adopted 
on the 20th, and the second on the 31st of May. All doubt, with respect to 
the Resolutions of the 31st, was removed by the discovery, almost simultane- 
ously, ten years ago, in Charleston and in London, of a cotemporaneous news- 
paper containing the entire series which bear the date of the 31st May. 
There is no conclusive evidence arising from any cotemporaneous publication 
of the Resolutions of the 20th. It is not reasonable to suppose, however, that 
a Committee met on the 31st without any previous notice or preliminary ac- 
tion, and adopted, without discussion, the twenty well-drawn Resolutions of 
the 31st of May. Dr. Cummins' evidence will probably satisfy the reader that 
the latter was not the only meeting, and go far to sustain the conclusion that 
there was a meeting of citizens on the 19th and 20th, the proceedings of which 
led to the adoption, by the regular Mecklenburg Committee, organized under 
the Articles of American Association, of the Resolutions of the 31st. The note 
upon this subject is the more worthy of consideration on account of its inci- 
dental character. Dr. Cummins seems not to have been aware that any ques- 
tion had arisen, or was likely to arise, in relation to the authenticity of any 
one of the three events, which came within the range of his memory and obser- 
vation. His letter of the 10th November 1819, to the Hon. Nathaniel Macon, 
published in the State Pamphlet upon the subject pp. 17 and 18, was in reply 
to specific enquiries, and the response will be found on examination to be in 
strict accordance with the previously published note. 

His statement of the motives which actuated the Regulators, that it was an 
incipient struggle for Independence, is the earliest printed iutimation of the 
fact that we recollect to have met with. All the leading facts connected with 
this portion of our history, are undergoing an examination in our pages, which 
renders further reference to the subject on our part unnecessary : 

" Some time (May, I think) in the year 1775, the principal characters in the 
county of Mecklenburg in N. Carolina, met twice in the hall of Queen's Mu- 
seum for the purpose of digesting articles for a State Constitution. Numbers 
formally before magistrates, abjured the authority of George III., and all for- 
eign governments : and on an appointed day, said county of Mecklenburg 
generally met, and by their herald (Col. Thomas Polk, I believe,) proclaimed 
on the court-house stairs, independence of Great Britain. Capt. James Jack, 

1859.] Motors' Table. 183 

yet living, and now of Elbert county, Georgia, was sent with intelligence of 
these facts to Philadelphia, to Congress. Congress returned thanks to the 
county for their zeal, but advised a little further patience. Of the truth of all 
this note, the author assures the public ; as he was a personal witness to the 
whole of these things, and one of the abjurors as above. Of the day and 
month, dates of these things he cannot be certain, but positively knows they 
were done before the declaration of independence by Congress. If priority, 
therefore, in things of this sort, can entitle a State to a claim of primary honor, 
the claim of North Carolina is pre-eminent. Massachusetts lost the first blood, 
unless we allow that honor to the regulators of N. Carolina in 1771." Note 
to pp. 17, 18. 

"It is not improper to observe here, that a considerable number of people 
in North Carolina in the year 1770, became discontented with the manage- 
ment of the King's Courts, and with the abuse as they conceived of the public 
money ; and began in their own way to correct these things. Hence they as- 
sumed, or were called by the name of Regulators. 

" In the Spring of 1771, a battle was fought between them, about a thousand 
in number, and Governor Tryon at the head of three or four hundred men. 
The Regulators were beaten, some killed, and all dispersed. This was folloAV- 
ed by the imposition of the oath of allegiance by Tryon upon a large part of 
the Province, especially the middle and lower parts. This defeat, discourage- 
ment, and oath of allegiance, caused hundreds of honest, but intimidated men, 
especially the Scotch, to be what was then called Tories ; a term used in Eng- 
land to designate those in favor of the high handed and arbitrary measures of 
the Crown. See Rapin's History of England. 

" These steps of the Scotch brought on them another humiliating battle, and 
defeat of Col. Caswell, after the Revolution really began. fi^^The above reg- 
ulation measures, were in fact, of a revolutionary spirit, but undigested, hasty, 
unprotected, and they sunk instanter for want of support and concentration." 
Note to p. 16. 

With respect to the leadership at Moore's Creek, he simply gives the name 
of the commander in a manner which shows that no doubt on the subject had 
been suggested in his day. In connection with Dr. Cummins' note, we have 
concluded to present Williamson's account of this subject, hitherto strangely 
overlooked ; and to publish for the first time an original cotemporaneous letter 
from Governor Burke to Governor Caswell, which will serve to show who was 
regarded by that eminent patriot and statesman, not merely as the comman- 
der, but the leading spirit at Moore's Creek : 

" The legislature being sensible of the great loss they had sustained by this 
want of system, instituted a comptrollei-ship in the year 1782, and that office 
was very properly given to Richard Caswell, a gentleman who had acquired 
military reputation, in the year 1775, by the action at Moore's Creek, in which 
seventeen or eighteen hundred royalists, highlanders and regulators were de- 
feated, cut off, and dispersed, by the militia under his command." — Note CC, 
to Williamson's History of North Carolina. 

184 , Editors' Table. [October 

T. Burke to E. Caswell, Governor, &c. 

" Hanover Court House, Januray 27th, 1777. 
" Sir : — The agreeable intelligence that Gen. Washington has gained several, 
advantages over the enemy, will doubtless reach you long before you will re- 
ceive this. The amount of what we have learned is, that thirteen thousand 
of the enemy under Cornwallis, marched from Princeton to Trenton with the de- 
. sign to force a passage over the Delaware at Trenton. They were opposed by 
Washington, and the advanced portion of the armies were all day engaged. 
They each retired under cover of the night, and Washington practised the same 
expedient to deceive the enemy, which you, sir, did at Moore's Creek Bridge ; 
and while his fires were burning, he decamped, passed the enemy, and sur- 
prised three battalions of Hessians which were in the rear. These he entirely 
routed, taking a great many of them, and all their field pieces and baggage. 
He then marched directly to Princeton, and after an obstinate engagement, 
defeated a strong party of the enemy who was posted there. Our killed are 
said to exceed forty, and I know not the number wounded. Several gallant 
officers fell, and Gen. Mercer was desperately wounded." 


At a called meeting of the Club, for the purpose of electing a new member, 
several names were proposed. Ben Short advocated the claims of Mr. Love- 
talking ; he stated that the gentleman in questien was a perfect model for a 
club-member ; that he was never known to have given birth to an opinion that 
had the least sense in it; that unless Mr. Lovetalking was chosen, the depart- 
ment of talking nonsense would degenerate in our Club ; that it became us to 
preserve the name of our Club undimmed in glory ; that no man in college 
could do more than the aforesaid gentleman to maintain the reputation of our 
illustrious body, as far as talking was concerned ; he also informed us that our 
hated rivals, the D. B. E.'s — which letters, he said, stood for Do Everything 
Badly, but would much more appropriately mean Devilishly Bad Eggs — knew 
nothing of the merits of his young friend, and that we could surely get him ; 
and he wound up by heartily recommending the name to the favorable consid- 
eration of the Club. 

Other persons were discussed, until Tom Sturdy arose to propose the name, 
and urged the claims, of Mr. Richard Shallowbrain. " Gentlemen," said 
Tom, "I would have favored the cause of Mr. Lovetalking, or of Mr. Pun- 
maker, if I did not know a gentleman whom I prefer to them all — I mean Mr. 
Richard Shallowbrain. And why, gentlemen, do I prefer Mr. Shallowbrain ? 
Is it that he excels in any peculiar art, as talking or punniaking ? Far from 
it, gentlemen — far from it ; but I am happy to say that the mental endow- 
ments of my young friend give him a wide range of occupations to choose 
from ; and I venture to predict that he will soon outstrip Ben Short's friend in 
talking, if he turns his attention to that subject ; or Quiz's^rote^e, the punmaker, 
if he choose to do so — in short, he has just brains enough to keep out of the 
fire, to talk foolishly, make a pun, and be a good fellow besides. And since 

1859.] Editors' Talk. 185 

we can have only one more member, by all means, we should choose the one 
with the most versatile and shallow brains." 

Tom is a man of tremendous influence in our Club, and his address had the 
desired effect ; all the other names were withdrawn, and Mr. Richard Shallow- 
brain was unanimously chosen. Tom was deputed to inform him of his elec- 
tion ; and Quiz and Ben were appointed as a committee to arrange a plan of 
initiation. What that plan was, will be presently seen. This was done at 
our called meeting. 

At the time for our fourth regular meeting, we despatched Tom to Shallow- 
brain's room, to bring him up ; while the rest prepared for his reception. Pre- 
sently, a knock was heard at the door ; all the lights in the room were put out, 
except two dark-lanterns in the hands of Ben and Tim ; Sam Soaring ran to 
door with a thick cloth in his hands, to blindfold the new member ; and Quiz, 
hastily turning his coat wrong side outwards, and putting a large cocked-hat, 
made of paper, on his head, assumed a very dignified look. At a given signal, 
the shades of the lanterns were turned ; Sam walked out and blindfolded 
Richard ; when he had secured him from seeing, he knocked at the door, the 
lanterns were opened to give some light, and Shallowbrain was conducted in 
front of Quiz. At a wink from Quiz, darkness again covered the room, the 
blindfold was taken off — but here a part of the scheme failed. It had been 
agreed that when the fold was removed from Richard's face, Sam should pinch 
Ben, Ben should pinch Quiz, Quiz should do the same favor to Tim ; and sud-' 
denly the shades should be taken from the lanterns, and the light thrown into 
Shallowbrain's eyes, and during his consequent confusion, Quiz should say, 
"Boo!" This was to be the most important part of the initiation, but unfor- 
tunately it failed. Tim by some mishap had got out of his proper place, and 
in feeling about to regain it, stuck his finger into Sturdy's eye. Tom was too 
much taken by surprise to consider a moment, but struck a powerful lick in 
the direction, as he thought, of the offender — namely, right in front of him. It 
so happened that in leading Mr. Shallowbrain into the room, Tom had .station- 
ed himself immediately behind that gentleman, who was, consequently, the 
recipient of Tom's favor. A loud squeal followed the blow, a scuffle, a heavy 
fall, and a very loud "Hallo !" from Quiz. The lantern shades Avere imme- 
diately turned, and behold ! Quiz was sitting in a spit-box, where he had fallen, 
his paper hat was gone, and his hair rumpled ; Mr. Richard was stretched 
upon the floor, just beyond Quiz, kicking and screaming for dear life; and 
Tim Trembler was on his knees in a distant part of the room, crawling in all 
haste for the door ; Ben was laughing ; Sam standing composedly Avith folded 
arms; and Tom was rubbing his injured eye with the back part of his fore- 
finger. Order was at last restored, and Quiz addressed to the new member 
the folloAving questions : 

" Do you promise, whenever you see a pretty young lady, to strut and try 
to attract her attention to you V 

" I do," said Richard. 

" Do you promise to eat as much as you may want, and to drink as much as 
you may want, always provided you can get whereAvith to eat and drink I" 

" I do." 

186 Editors' Table. [October 

"And now," said Quiz, "I am about to put to you the most solemn question 
of all : Do you promise to get married, if you can find anybody to have you, 
unless you should prefer to be an old bachelor?" 

"I do," said Richard firmly and between his teeth. 

These questions having been answered to the satisfaction of all present, 
Quiz proceeded to give Richard the secret sign of recognition ; which, accord- 
ing to Quiz, consists in taking the end of the nose between the fore and middle 
finger, and giving a hearty shake. We all in turn gave him the sign, assur- 
ing him at the same time that he had better be careful in exchanging it with 
anybody ; for any one but a member of our Club would be certain to knock 
down any man who happened to treat him thus. Tim seemed afraid -to give 
the mystic sign even to Shallowbrain, but after much encouragement he did 
it; howbeit, with fear and trembling. 

"Let's proceed with our regular business," said Tom. 

"Oh ! no. I am in favor of Shallowbrain's telling us the history of his ad- 
ventures since he joined college," said Quiz. 

"Good idea, Quiz," said Ben. 

"I," said Sam, "vote with Sturdy." 

" And what say you, Tim?" asked all together. 

Tim was never known to have an opinion of his own, except when there 
was any danger — then his decisions were quick enough. But in this case 
there was no immediate danger to be apprehended - r so Tim was dubious what 
to say. 

"Don't you think," said Tom, " that we out to discuss college matters ?" 

" Don't you think," said Quiz, "that Shallowbrain ought to tell us the his- 
tory of his doings in college?" 

"I think — er — that is — hem — Tom, I think — Quiz, you are — hem — I mean 
that we ought occasionally to converse on college affairs, and we ought some- 
times to hear a story." 

"Well, what shall we do to-night?" 

" I am rather inclined to think — you know, Tom, I am your friend, and 
Quiz's too." 

" Blockhead, decide one way or the other," said Tom impatiently, " I don't 
care which way you go." 

" Nor I," said Quiz, "only be in a hurry." 

"Well — er — I believe — you know, Tom, and Quiz, I like you both" — 

"Nonsense," interrupted Tom. "I withdraw my motion, and agree with 
you Quiz ; so r now, that we have decided, come forth Master Richard, and give 
us the history of your adventures in college." 

"I don't know any," stammered Richard. 

" Then, manufacture some ; for a story we must have," said Quiz. 

"What must I tell you about ?" 

" Why, tell us everything that has happened to you since you joined col- 

•' Oh ! you mean about my getting ' deviled,' do you ?" 

" Yes, exactly ; so out with it." 

1859.] Editors' Table. 187 

" Stop a moment, boys," said Ben. " Let me light a cigar, and explain to 
him the object of our Club." 

So saying, he took a handful of cigars from his pocket, handed one to each 
of the crowd, stuck one end of his into his mouth, and the other end into a 
neighboring candle ; and being assured by the volume of smoke that issued 
from his mouth that his cigar was lighted, he began : 

" The object of our Club, so far as I can understand, is to inquire into 
everybody's business but our own ; to lose no opportunity of abusing anybody ; 
to make puns and witty remarks whenever we can ; and to enjoy ourselves 
generally. You need not fear to make any disclosures to this crowd ; for it is 
the sole purpose of our organization to know everything that happens." 

Mr. Richard Shallowbrain is naturally fond of talk, and being thus assured 
by Ben, and urged by the rest of the Club, told his tale after this fashion : 

" When I started from home to come here, I was acquainted with nobody 
in college, and knew nest to nothing about any of the books I was to be ex- 
amined upon. ; Tis true, I had heard vague rumors about the doings here — 
how the Fresh were tormented by the newborn Sophs, how bad the students 
generally were ; but I knew no one who had ever seen a student to know him, 
and, consequently, knew nothing for certain. "When I parted from my sweet- 
heart, I got a lock of her hair, and put in my vest pocket just over my heart ; 
and with a martyr-like feeling I got on the cars going collegeward. I had not 
been on the way very long, before a nice-looking fellow with a beaver and a 
stumpy mustache came to me, and asked me where I was going. 

" To Chapel Hill, sir." 

"Good egg," said the nice-looking individual, "lam going there myself. 
What class do you expect to join?" 

" The Freshman, sir. What class do you belong to ?" 

" I am very happy to tell you I am a Sophomore — I will have to take you 
under my protection," said young mustache with a patronizing air. 

" Thank you, sir ; I'll be very much obliged to you." 

" What Society are you going to join?" 

" Society ? What's that? I never heard of it before — I suppose it's some 
of your college notions." 

" Society! Why, it's — it's — why, it's where we go to, every Friday night 
and Saturday morning." 

" Yes ! I'm bound to go there too, if you have any fun there." 

"Well, we don't have fun exactly, but it's where we make speeches." 

Now, I had never made a speech in my life, and I considered it an impos- 
sibility that any youngster of my age could make a speech ; therefore, I thought 
that my new acquaintance was trying to gull me. I determined, however, to 
show him that I was not so verdant as he might suppose. 

" You are trying to fool me," said I, " talking about boys making speeches." 

" Positively, it's a fact." 

" You don't pretend to tell me that you can make a speech," said I in- 

" Yes, I can. Listen: 'They tell us, sir, that we are weak, but when will 
we be stronger? Will it be the next month, or the next year? Will it be 

188 Editors Table [October 

when our enemy Has bound us hand and foot ? No, sir, Mr. President, liberty 
and union, now and forever, one and inseperable.' What do you think of 
that ?" said he triumphantly. 

This "was a downright demonstration of his powers of speech-making, and I 
gazed with wonder mingled with reverence at the being before me — my in- 
credulity was gone. 

" Will they learn me too to speak, if I join the Society ?" 

" Yes, certainly; and I would advise you, if you want to speak as well as I 
do, to join my Society — the other is a complete humbug." 

I readily promised to join his Society ; for I admired the man's talents ; and 
I wanted to be as good a speaker as he was. 

" Don't you let other boys fool you," he said. " They will tell you a heap 
of fine tales about their Society, and they will abuse mine ; but don'c believe 
them — I tell you confidentially, I believe that my Society is incomparably bet- 
ter than its rival; and after you join it, you'll think so too." 

I winked at him, to let him know that I perfectly understood him ; and 
after a little more conversation, my new friend assumed a charming don't-care 
look, put his hat on the side of his head, stretched his limbs along the seat as 
far as he could, and appeared by the occasional compression of his lips to be 
deeply immersed in thought. 

We soon arrived at Durham's ; and I was in a complete torment till I got 
here, imagining all sorts of unheard-of horrors that awaited me. As soon as 
I saw the first house in town my heart began to thump still faster and harder, 
and I felt a nameless dread creep over me. When the hacks came in sight of 
the crowd at the hotel, ' Fresh !' seemed to burst from every throat, and re- 
sembled the noise of a choir of bull-frogs, much more than the voice of humans. 
I jumped from the hack, and a crowd surrounded me ; two or three were 
begging me to join their Society ; two more, one on each side, were whispering 
in my ears about the excellencies of their respective clubs ; and a pertinacious 
Soph was scraealing ' Fresh,' at the top of his voice. I jerked from them and 
ran into the house. ' Society !' screamed half a dozen voices ; ' Club !' cried 
two or three more ; ' Fresh !' cried the Soph. I cried, ' Yes,' to everything, 
and went to supper. 

After that time I enjoyed no peace, till T joined a Society ; and even after 
that, I was bored nearly to death by visitors, who persisted in showing me 
their pretty club-pins" — 

" Hallo!" interrupted Quiz. "Ben's fast asleep, and Tom is nodding for a 
wager. Richard, my darling, suppose you suspend operations — I'm very much 
interested in your story, but it's growing late, you know." 

" Well, I'll stop," said Shallowbrain. 

" Good idea," said Tim, rubbing his eyes. 

" Wake up, Ben and Tom, or you'll be left in the dark. Put out the lights, 
Tim. Good night all around," eaid Quiz; whereupon, the crowd quietly dis- 

1859.] Editors' Table. 189 


While glancing hurriedly through the leaves of " Duyckinck's Cyclopaedia of 
American Literature," our attention was arrested by a sketch of America's 
most loved and gifted poetess, Mrs. Sigourney. It is not wonderful, then, 
that, dismissing haste, we paused long and eagerly until we had read all, but 
not enough, of her whose praises we love to sing, and hear sung. 

Much has been said of the literary, but very little of the social, life of Mrs. 
Sigourney. "Who can read her writings and not feel the out-gushings of that 
most lovely inner existence, which, if more fully dwelt upon and comprehended, 
would add a new golden link of affection to bind her to the great national heart ! 

Of all that we have heard, or read, on the subject of the remarkable death 
of that "Martyr to Science/' Dr. Mitchell, and of the subsecpient interment 
of his remains, there is nothing that has afforded us so vivid a conception of 
the circumstances connected with his tragic end, and the sublimity of his 
mountain burial, as the following beautiful and graphic description of the 
scene, by Mrs. Sigourney, gathered from an April number of the New York 
Ledger. We are proud to present it to our readers : 



The Rev. Dr. Mitchell, Professor of Chemistry, Mineralogy and Geology, in 
the University of North Carolina, lost his life in a scientific exploration of the 
Black Mountain, the highest land east of the Mississippi, and was interred on 
Mount Mitchell, its most elevated peak,. June lGth, 1858. 

Where is he, Mountain Spirit ? 

Dread Mountain Spirit, say ! 
That honored Son of Science 

Who dared thy shrouded way ? 
Oh, giant-firs ! whose branches 

In gloomy grandeur meet, 
Did ye his steps imprison 

Within your dark retreat ? 

Ye Mists and muffled Thunders 

That robe yourselves in black, 
Have you his steps deluded 

To wander from the track ? 
Make answer — have ye seen him? 

For hearts with fear are bow'd, 
And torches, like the wandering stars, 

Gleam out above the cloud. 

Sound hunter's horn ! — haste mountaineers ! 

Lo, on the yielding fern, 
Are these his foot-prints o'er the ledge ? 

Will he no more return ? 
He cometh ! — How ? — As marble comes 

Forth from its quarried bed, 
With dripping locks, and rigid brow, 

Comes back the noble dead. 

O'er that deep, watery mirror, 
With sweetly pensive grace, 

190 Editors' Table. [October 

The graceful Khododendron lean'd 

To look upon his face. 
While, 'mid the slippery gorges, 

The gorgeous laurels stand, 
Which, faithless, like the broken reed,* 

Betray'd his grasping -hand. 

No crystal, in its hermit-bed, 

No strata of the dales, . . 

No stranger-plant, or noteless vine, 

In Carolinian vales ; 
No shell upon her shore, 

No ivy on her wall — 
No winged bird, or reptile form, 

But he could name them all. 

So Nature hath rewarded him 

Who loved her sacred lore, 
With such a pillow of repose 

As man ne'er had before. 
A monument that biddeth 

Old Egypt's glory hide, 
With all her kingly pyramids, 

In all their rude-hill pride. 

Up ! — up ! — courageous mountaineers — 

Each nerve and sipew strain — 
For what ye do from love this day 

Ye ne'er shall do again. 
From beetling crag to summit, 

So ominous and steep, 
They force their venturous way, where scarce 

The chamois dares to leap. 

There, many thousand feet above 

Atlantic's surging height, 
Prelate and priest, with lifted hands, 

Invoked the God of Might, 
And then the cloud-encircled cliff 

Its granite bosom spread, 
And in a strong and close embrace 

Inlocked the saintly dead. 

So, in thy sepulchre of rock, 

Follower of Jesus, rest, 
Serene, approachless and sublime, 

Until the mountain crest 
Shall redden with the fires of doom, 

And Earth affrighted stand ! 
Then joyful leave thy Pisgah tomb, 

And tread the promised Land. 

Hartford, February 16, 1859. 

* When Prof. Mitchell was discovered in a stream into which, during the mists 
of the evening and the darkness of a sudden thunder-storm, he had fallen, 
over a precipice of forty feet, he held in his hand a broken branch of laurel. 

1859.] Editors? Table. 191 

Our Exchanges. — We are pleased to acknowledge the reception of the fol- 
lowing regular exchanges : 

Dailies. — Wilmington Herald, Wilmington Journal, Fayetteville North 
Carolinian, New-Berne Progress, Petersburg Express, Petersburg Intelligen- 
cer, and Washington Constitution. 

Tri-Weeklies. — Charleston Mercury, Memphis Appeal. 

Semi-Weeklies. — Raleigh' Register, North Carolina Standard, Fayetteville 
Observer, Richmond Enquirer, and Richmond Whig. 

Weeklies. — Spirit of the Age, Biblical Recorder, North Carolina Christian 
Advocate, Greensboro' Times, Greensboro' Patriot, Iredell Express, Western 
Sentinel, Salisbury Banner, Carolina Watchman, Western Democrat, Catawba 
Journal,. Asheville News, Rutherford Enquirer, Warrenton News, Weldon 
Patriot, Wilson Ledger, Tarboro' Mercury, Washington Dispatch, Democratic 
(Raleigh) Press, Goldsboro' Tribune, Murfreesboro' Citizen, Hillsboro' Recor- 
der, Kinston Advocate, North Carolina Presbyterian, Leisure Hour, Boston 
Statesman & Weekly Post, Banner of Liberty, Home Journal, Richmond 
Christian Advocate, Montgomery Mail, South Western (Ala.) Baptist, Gal- 
veston (Texas) News, and New Orleans Picayune. 

We beg pardon for neglecting the Franklin Observer and Salem Press. 
We did not slight them intentionally, and will be pleased to exchange with 
them. Several Editors to whom we have sent our Magazine have failed to ex- 
change. We presume they too intended no slight, and hope to see their papers 
adorn our reading room in future. 

Our Monthly exchanges come in rather tardily. We have mailed our Maga- 
zine regularly to the Virginia University Magazine, Hampden Sidney Maga- 
zine, Harvard Magazine, Yale Literary Magazine, Erskine Collegiate Recor- 
der, Kenyon Collegian, New York Teacher, and North Carolina Educational 
Journal. Of these we have to acknowledge the reception of the North Caro- 
lina Educational Journal, Erskine Collegiate Recorder, Harvard Magazine, 
Yale Literary Magazine, and New York Teacher. 

The Edinburgh Review. — We tender our thanks to Messrs. Leonard Scott 
& Co., for this valuable Review. In point of age, at least, it is first on the list 
of first class periodicals. Everybody knows that it was established by Jeffrey, 
Brougham and Sidney Smith, for the purpose of combating the ruling Tory 
power, which was carrying everything before it with a high hand. Sustained 
by the force of brilliant intellect, and upheld by a strong public opinion, it 
carried on its contest single-handed, until its voice made the tory leaders qiiake, 
and the very throne tremble. It is still conducted with much vigor and abili- 
ty. This is not the only publication by Messrs. Scott & Co., which our fellow- 
students would do well to patronize. We, therefore, publish below a notice 
which they sent us sometime since : 

" L. Scott & Co., New York, continue to publish the following leading Brit- 

|~sh periodicals, viz : The London Quarterly Review, (Conservative;) The Edin- 
mrf/h Review, (Whig;) The North British Review, (Free Church ;) The West 

192 " Tributes of Respect. 

receipt of Advance Sheets from the British publishers gives additional value 
to these Eeprints, inasmuch as they can now be placed in the hands of sub- 
scribers about as soon as the original editions. TERMS — For any one of the 
four Reviews, S3 per annum ; for any two of the four Reviews, $5 ; For any 
three of the four Reviews, S7 ; for all four of the Reviews, $8 ; for Blackwood's ■■ 
Magazine, $3 ; for Blackwood and one Review, $5 ; for Blackwood and two 
Reviews, $7 ; for Blackwood and three Reviews, $9; for Blackwood and the 
four Reviews, §10. Money current in the State where issued will be receiv- 
ed at par. 

American Bible Union. — We omitted to state in the proper place that the 
Rev. W. H. Bobbitt, agent of the American Bible Union, delivered a sermon 
in the College Chapel in the early part of the session, and received a hand- 
some contribution from the students. 


Philantropic Hall, August 27th, 1859. 

Whereas, The Philanthropic Society has heard of the death of Mr. James 
"Woods, of Nashville, Tenn., — he who left our midst but a few years ago, crown- 
ed with high honors of the University, bearing the kindest wishes of all who 
knew him, and gifted with talents that promised him a glorious and success- 
ful career in his profession of Law ; he who had already risen to a high posi- 
tion, and stood among the foremost in ability ; and who bid fair to do his coun- 
try honor ; he whose kindness made all who knew him love him, and whose 
talents commanded the admiration and respect of every one — therefore, 

Resolved, That while we bow to the will of Providence, we cannot but re- 
gret most sincerely the loss of him, who, while among us, was beloved; and 
who, when absent from us, reflected honor upon the Society that fostered his 
young talents. 

Resolved, That we deeply sympathize with the relatives of our departed 
brother, and assure them that, while they mourn the loss of a kinsman, we 
lament the death of a highly-esteemed fellow-member. 

Resolved, That we draw consolation from the knowledge that Providence 
does all things well, and that our friend, though departed from earth, has been 
summoned to a higher and more glorious field of labor. 

Resolved, That a copy of these resolutions be forwarded to the family of the 
deceased ; and to the Nashville papers, and the University Magazine, with a 
request for publication. 

W. R. BOND, 
• J. P. WALKER, 






:f Justice of the SiijfeEME Court or North Car 







M 9. l(obch)5ei% 1850. ifo. A. 




The name of Henderson has been long and favorably known in North 
Carolina. The family to which this is principally due is of English 
origin, and, having settled for a time in Hanover county, Virginia, camo 
into this province about the year 1762, and fixed itself in the county of 
Granville. Here, during the last years of the lloyal Government, one 
of its members became a distinguished Judge. In the war of the Revo- 
lution the family espoused the cause of Liberty, and several of the sons 
entered the ranks of the patriot army. It continued to flourish after 
peace and independence had been secured, and in the course of the histo- 
ry of the State, the name may be found an honored one in almost every 
employment of life. A county, a town and a village will carry this name 
to posterity, and be standing monuments to the fame and services of those 
who bore it. 

Among the most prominent of this distinguished family was Leonard 
Henderson, late Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of North Carolina. 
He was born on the waters of Nutbush Creek, in the county of Granville, 
on the 6th day of October, in the year 1772. His father was Richard 
Henderson, the gentleman above alluded to as having attained a high po- 
sition in the judicial department of the provincial government. The 
latter was in early life a constable, an office which perhaps he owed to 
the influence of his father, Col. Samuel Henderson, who was at one time 
high sheriff of the county of Granville. Prompted by the aspirations of 
a, noble ambition, the humble officer resolved to make an effort to better 

194 Memoir of Chief Justice Henderson. [November 

bis fortune by devoting himself to the profession of the. law. He accord- 
ingly commenced the reading of such books as were then deemed necessary, 
and after a very short period of study presented himself for examination be- 
fore the Chief Justice of "the General Court," upon whose certificate of 
proficiency he was to obtain a license to practise law from the Gov- 
ernor. The Chief Justice, upon hearing from the applicant that he had 
been reading a few months only, advised him to return home ; to which 
he replied with promptness and spirit, that he had come, not to ask advice, 
or seek a favor, but to demand a right ; whereupon the Judge, being ir- 
ritated, subjected him to a rigid examination, which he sustained with 
great ability. The result was that the certificate was given, accompanied 
with many encomiums upon his talents and industry. From such a be- 
ginning his professional success might well have been anticipated. He 
attained not only to the highest honors of his profession under the royal 
government, but after the independence of the colonies had been secured 
and a constitutional government had been established in North Caro- 
lina, he was elected one of the first three Judges of its Supreme Court. 
This latter office, however, he either declined to accept, or resigned in a 
few months.* He married a lady whose name was Elizabeth Keeling, by 
whom he had four sons who lived to years of maturity, all of whom were 
men of more than ordinary abilities. Richard, the eldest, studied law and 
began the practice in Granville county, where he died in the commence- 
ment of a career of unusually bright promise. Archibald, the second son, 
also devoted himself to the profession of law, and settled in the town of 

*One of the reasons which may have prevented Colonel Henderson (as he 
Was then called) from accepting a seat on the bench at that time, was that he 
was then chief manager of a company called the Transylvania Land Company. 
It had been formed a few years before by him and others, and he and his asso- 
ciates had purchased from the Cherokee Indians a very extensive and rich 
tract of country in which was embraced a considerable portion of the present 
States of Kentucky and Tennessee.. The treaty by which the purchase was 
made, was concluded in March, 1775, on the banks of the Watauga river, at a 
council at which the celebrated Daniel Boone was present. The purchase was 
declared void by the States of Virginia and North Carolina, but each subse- 
quently granted two hundred thousand acres of land in lieu of the territory 
which they respectively claimed. The duty of attending to the interests of 
this company must have occupied the Colonel's time and attention to so great 
a degree as to preclude him from attempting the difficult and laborious task of 
administering the law under a new and untried form of government. 

Colonel Richard Henderson had several brothers, the youngest of whom, 
Major Pleasant Henderson, deserves a passing notice. He served as an officer 
in the war of the Revolution, and a few years after the close of it married a 
daughter of Colonel James Martin, of Stokes county, and settled at Chapel 
Hill, where he resided many years and reared a large family. In 1789 he 
succeeded Judge Haywood as a Clerk to the House of Commons, and retained 
the office, through all the mutations of men and parties, for forty years. Ini 
1831 he removed with his family to Huntington, Tennessee, where he died in | 
1842, in the 86th year of his age- 

1859.] Memoir of Chief Justice Henderson. 195 

Salisbury, where he became a very distinguished advocate, and unques- 
tionably the leader of the bar in the western portion of the State. He 
also for two terms represented the Salisbury District in Congress, where 
he attained a distinction scarcely inferior to that which he had at the 
bar. John L., the youngest of the sons, was also a lawyer, and, after 
representing, during several sessions, the borough of Salisbury in the 
lower House of our General Assembly, filled successively the offices 
of Comptroller of State, and Clerk of the Supreme Court. Not the/ 
least talented, and in many respects the most distinguished, of the\ 
sons, was Leonard, the subject of the present memoir. He was the third 
son and sixth child of his parents. He was left an orphan at an early 
age, liis father having died when he was twelve years old, and his mother 
surviving her husband only five } r ears. It may not be amiss to mention 
here, as an evidence of the simplicity and frugality of the times, as well 
as of the prudence and industry of the matrons of that day, that his moth- 
er, though the wife of one of the highest officers of the province, taught 
her eldest sons, as well as her daughters, to card and spin. Why Leonard 
was not instructed in the same housewifely accomplishment we are not 
informed. The splendid professional career of one of his elder brothers, 
shows that though it might not have advanced, it certainly would not have 
obstructed, his upward course to fame and fortune. 

The early education of the subject of our memoir, was obtained at a 
school kept in the neighborhood from time to time by a teacher named 
Hooker. Thence he was sent for a short period to a school in Salisbury, 
where his sisters, Elizabeth, wife of William Lee Alexander, and Fan- 
ny, wife of Judge Spruce McCay, then resided. After his return 
home, he went to school to a man named Springer, and then read the 
Latin Classics and the Greek Testament with the Rev. Mr. Patillo, a Pres- 
byterian clergyman eminent for his learning and piety. With this limited 
amount of classical instruction, which was all that his narrow pecuniary 
resources allowed him to obtain, he commenced the study of the law with 
his relative, Judge John Williams, whose sister his paternal grandfather 
had married. In what year he was admitted to the bar, we have been 
unable to learn, but suppose that it was about the time when he came of 
age. Soon after that time, to wit, in the year 1795, "he was married to his""" 
cousin, Frances Farrar, who was a niece of Judge Williams. The young 
couple being poor, the Judge, who was wealthy, with an only child to pro- 
vide for, generously gave them a portion with which to begin the world. 
They settled in Williamsborough, a small village near the place of their 
uncle's residence. 

What was the professional success of the young lawyer in the beginning 
of his attendance upon the courts, we have not heard. We infer, how- 

196 . Memoir of Chief Justice Henderson. [November 

ever, that his income from his practise at the bar was not so great as to 
render unnecessary other sources of profit. He was appointed to, and for 
several years held, the office of clerk of the District Court at Hillsborough. 
The State was then divided into a small number of districts, in each of 
which a court of supreme jurisdiction was held twice a year ; and as eacli 
district comprised several counties, the clerkship must have been an office 
~of no little emolument, as well as dignity. In the year 1806 the district 
system was abolished, and the plan by which a superior court was to be 
held twice a year in each county was substituted in the place of it. For 
that purpose the State was divided into six circuits, and an additional 
number of Judges was elected, so as to have a Judge for each circuit. 
The Judges, however, were not located, but were at liberty to reside where 
they pleased, and to ride the circuits as they might themselves agree, the 
only restriction upon them being that no Judge should go the same circuit 
twice in succession. A supreme court, which had been previously estab- 
lished, distinct from the circuit courts, was to be held by the same Judges 
twice a year in Raleigh, in the intervals of the superior court ridings. 
Two years after the adoption of this system, Mr. Henderson was chosen to 
fill one of the two vacancies upon the bench occasioned by the death of 
Judge McCay, and the elevation of Judge Stone to the office of Governor. 
His election at that time was a high compliment to his character for 
probity, talents and professional acquirements, as it was made by an As- 
sembly, the majority of whose members was decidedly opposed to him in 
national politics. The political complexion of the Assembly was clearly 
manifested by the election, at the same session, of the Honorable David 
Stone as Governor of the State, he being one of the leaders of the then 
Republican party, while Judge Henderson had always been a member of 
the then opposition, or Federal party. It is true that at that period, mem- 
bers of the Legislature were in a great measure unbiassed by party spirit 
in the choice of high judicial functionaries. But we may well suppose 
that even then political influence was so far felt as to induce the voters tc 
prefer a member of their own party, unless there was a decided prepon-l 
derance of qualifications in some other candidate. The election of Mrj 
Henderson was due, then, solely to the high appreciation of his charactel 
and eminent qualifications. The duties of the office of Judge, he continl 
ued to discharge in a manner eminently creditable to himself, and usefu 
to the public for eight years, when he resigned in consequence, no doubt 
of the meagreness of the compensation attached to his very laborious office 
We are not distinctly informed that such was the reason for his course 
but we can well image that a man of limited means with an increa^ 
ing family could not well afford to perform the annual duty of riding ti 
circuits composed often counties each, and of assisting to hold two ten 

1859.] Memoir of Chief Justice Henderson. 197 

of the supreme court for the small salary of $1,600. Neither official dig- 
nity and repose, nor a just sense of public duty could prevent such a man 
from returning to a profession, whose emoluments might supply the in- 
creasing wants of his family. 
Soon after the resignation of Judge Henderson, a change in the plan 
upon which the supreme court was constituted, began to be discussed. It 
was found by experience that the Judges, to whom was assigned the dou- 
ble duty of holding the superior courts semi-annually in the several coun- 
ties of the State, and the supreme court twice a year in Raleigh, were un- 
able to bestow the necessary time and study to the cases Avhich were 
brought for adjudication before the latter tribunal. In performing circuit 
duties the Judges were, as we have seen, forbfuden to ride the same cir- 
cuit twice in succession ; and this provision enforced upon each one of 
them during five of the six circuits in the course of which he traversed 
the State, a prolonged absence from his home and family. And then, 
after such an absence, when worn down by the fatiguing journeys, as well 
as by the official engagements of the circuit, having snatched a brief in- 
terval of repose, he was compelled to attend the supreme court at Raleigh, 
and there, with body wearied and mind jaded and unstrung, to settle ques- 
tions of law, the most weighty and perplexing — questions involving the 
highest interests of the State, and the dearest rights and privileges of the 
citizen. Well might the wisdom and the propriety of such a plan for the 
highest judicial tribunal of the State be doubted ; and well might the 
ablest and most intelligent men of the State enquire whether a better and 
more efficient one could not be devised. The result of the inquiry was 
that in the year 1817 a bill was introduced into the Legislature, proposing 
an organization of the court upon a scheme very much the same with that 
which was afterwards adopted. The bill passed one branch of the Legis- 
lature, but was lost in the other. Its friends, however, did not despair, 
but introduced it into the General Assembly of 1818, when it became a law. 
Among those who distinguished themselves by its advocacy was William 
Gaston, then a member of the Senate, who several years afterwards be- 
came one of the brightest ornaments of the court. 

As soon as the plan of the court was adopted, it became a matter of 
prime importance to have the seats on its bench filled by men whose moral 
and intellectual qualities, and professional attainments, would ensure the 
able and faithful discharge of its highly responsible duties, and at the 
same time secure the confidence and respect of the profession and the 
people. Accordingly the names of six gentlemen of the greatest repute 
on the bench of the superior court and at the bar, were presented as can- 
didates for the vacant places. These were John Louis Taylor, John Hall, 
Henry Scawell, Leonard Henderson, Arohibald D. Murphey and Bartlett 

198 Memoir of Chief Justu:e Henderson. [November 

Yancey. The two first were then on the bench, and had been so contin- 
uously for about twenty years. Mr. Seaweli had been elected a Judge 
about five years before ; was well known as a man of great ability ; and as 
a criminal lawyer was reputed to be inferior to no man in the State. Leonard 
Henderson had, only two years previously, resigned his seat on the bench. % 
Mr. Murphey, with a high reputation as an able lawyer and elegant 
scholar, had greatly distinguished himself by seven years service in the 
State Senate, where he took a leading part in every question connected 
with the Internal Improvement of the State, and the extension of the 
benefits of education among the people. Eartlett Yancey was equally 
well known as a' skilful and successful advocate at the bar, and an efficient 
and popular Speaker of the Senate. Indeed, as the presiding officer of a 
deliberative body, it was said that he had, in the whole country, very few 
equals, and no superior, unless a superior might be found in the person of 
Henry Clay. In addition to this strong array of names, that of Archi- 
bald Henderson was at first proposed, but was withdrawn as soon as it was 
ascertained that his brother Leonard would be brought forward as a can- 
didate. The election was held on the 12th day of December, 1818, and 
the first ballot resulted in the choice of John Hall and Leonard Hender- 
son. John Louis Taylor was subsequently, after a close contest, elected 
the third Judge. Upon the organization of the court, the last named 
gentleman was appointed by his associates to be the Chief Justice, having 
occupied the same position on the bench of the old supreme court. Thus 
constituted, the court commenced its labors in January, 1819, and after a 
short session, adjourned to the 20th day of May, which was then appoin- 
ted to be the commencement of one of its regular terms. A large num- 
ber of cases had accumulated on the docket of the old court, which was 
transferred to that of the new, and the Judges entered upon the perform- 
ance of their duties with zeal, and with a determination to meet the pub- 
lic expectation by giving to each case such an examination, and consider- 
ation, as might result in its settlement upon correct principles. They 
were especially desirous to settle for North Carolina a system of law found- 
ed upon the common law of England, modified indeed to some extent, to 
suit the peculiar nature of our institutions, and altered in many respects 
by legislative enactment. In this attempt they were greatly aided by the 
arguments of a bar which had no superior, and hardly an equal, in any 
State of the Union. The truth of this will readily be acknowledged by 
those who read the names of Archibald Henderson, William Gaston, 
Thomas Ruffin, Moses Mordecai, Gavin Hogg, Joseph Wilson and Henry 
Seaweli, the last of whom had, about that time, resigned his seat on the 
bench of the superior court and returned to the bar. Some of these were 
succeeded a few years later by (among others) Francis L. Hawks, George 

1859.] Memoir of Chief Justice Henderson. 1U9 

E, Badger, Thomas P. Deirereksj Frederic Nash, Samuel Iliilman, Wil- 
liam H. Haywood and James Iredell. As it is not our purpose to give to 
the supreme court, under its present organization, more than a passing- 
notice, we will only add that it continued to be held by the three Judges 
'who were first placed upon it, until the 29th day of January, 1829, when 
Chief Justice Taylor died, and was succeeded as a Judge, temporarily, by 
the Hon. John D. Toomer, crA permanently by the Hon. Thomas Euffin. 
At the June Term, 1829, Judge Henderson was appointed by his asso- 
ciates to preside as Chief Justice, and continued to occupy that position 
until his death, which occurred at his residence near Willianisborough, in 
the county of Granville, on the 13th day of August, 1883. 

A delineation of the character of Judge Henderson, as a man ; 
of his qualities in the social relations of life; of his professional attain- 
ments; and of his qualifications for the place which he so loifg filled on 
the bench, is no easy task. The writer of the present memoir, feels its 
difficulties pressing upon him in a peculiar manner. He was Judge Hen- 
derson's pupil in the study of the law for more than three years. He "re- 
members his uniform kindness, his constant attention, and his valuable 
instructions, with fond affection. He feels that he cannot, if he would, 
divest himself of that partiality which such intercourse between a precept- 
or and pupil, is so well calculated to inspire. But notwithstanding this ever 
present obstacle to strict impartiality, he will endeavor to speak of the Judge 
according to the estimate of those best qualified to pass upon his merits. 

As a man, then, he was not without fault. Coming into public life 
about the time when infidelity had overspread France, and, in consequence 
of our alliance with her, had been extensively introduced into this coun- 
try, he, in common with too many of our most distinguished lawyers and 
public men, became imbued, to some extent, with its principles. The 
consequence was, that with him, as with them, there was not that purity 
of manners and morals which the genuine spirit of Christianity alone can 
produce. But from this remark it is not to be undverstood that there was 
any thing in his conduct which, in his day and generation, detracted from 
his character as a high minded, honorable gentleman. His vices were the 
faults of the age in which he lived; his virtues were his own. He was 
far above every thing that could be considered sordid or mean. He was 
temperate, truthful, candid, generous and charitable. In the last named 
qnality, he was distinguished in the best sense of the term. He neither 
judged harshly, nor spoke evil of his fellow man. Although very far from 
being rich in this world's goods, he never closed his hand against the wants 
of a poor neighbor, or turned away his ear from the tale of distress.* 

* An anecdote prevailed among his contemporaries which is believed to bo 
true, but whether true or not, at all events showed the general opinion as to his 

200 Memoir of Chief Justice Henderson. [November 

In domestic and social life Judge Henderson was kind, affable and 
courteous. He possessed in no ordinary degree, the love of his wife and 
children, and there was no man whose intercourse with his family was 
better calculated to win their confidence and affection. He was the de- 
light of his friends, and his fine conversational powers, aided by a strong 
and energetic mode of expression, always drew around him a circle of ad- 
miring listeners. To the students who attended the law school which he 
established after he became a Judge of the supreme court, he was always 
kind, accessible and communicative. He did not deliver regular lectures, 
nor appoint stated hours for recitation, but directed the studies of his pu- 
pils, urged them to apply to him at all times for a solution of their diffi- 
culties, and was never better satisfied with them than when, by their fre- 
quent, applications to him for assistance, they showed that they were stu- 
dying with'diligence and attention. 

With the people of the State he was always a favorite. His general 
popularity was not the lesult of solicitation, for he was never a candidate 
for any office which required him to canvass for the public favor. It was 
the spontaneous bestowal of that regard which a strong mind, united to a 
kind heart and affable manners, never fails to attract. Hence,, when he 
was a candidate for a seat on the bench, the representatives of the people 
on the second occasion, as on the first, gave their votes to him without 
regard to his opinions upon national politics. And we have seen that he 
was elected, together with a personal friend but political opponent, at the 
first ballot, over four other gentlemen of great name and extensive influ- 

kindness of heart, and the readiness of his sympathy with distress. A man 
of some standing in the community had been charged with murder, and for 
his defence had secured the services of all the leading counsel who practised 
at the bar where he was to be tried. The friends of the deceased brought Mr. 
Henderson, (who had just before retired from the bench,) by a very liberal 
special retainer, from his own circuit to assist in the prosecution. Whilst in 
attendance upon the court, he happened one day to see the prisoner's wife and 
children, clad in deep mourning, making their way towards the jail. The 
sight completely unmanned him ; he hurried to his clients, and begged per- 
mission to return the fee and retire from the cause. His urgent importunity 
gained the favor which he sought, and he hastened back to his home. It is 
added that his humanity to the poor woman was but of little service to her, 
her husband being subsequently convicted and hanged. 

There is a sequel to this story it may not be amiss to relate. The prisoner, 
after he was condemned to death, made his escape from prison, and fled to 
Florida, which was then a Spanish Province. A son of the deceased, who had 
just attained to manhood, hearing where he was, went alone in pursuit 
of him. Arriving near the borders of the territory, he secured the ser- 
vices of some of the settlers on the American side, and then, by means of a 
party of friendly Indians, the prisoner was enticed across the line in a hunt 
and captured. The youthful captor, alone and unaided, brought him back 
and surrendered him to the officers of the law. When it is recollected that 
at that time there were no railroads, and very few even of stage facilities 
for travelling between Florida and this State, the feat must be rogarded as 
ene of great difficulty and daring. 

1859.] Memoir of Chief Justice Henderson. 201 

ence in the State. Besides the offices of Judge and clerk of the district 
court at Hillsborough, we believe that he held no other, unless the trus- 
teeship of this University be an office. To that he was elected, together 
with the Hon. John Branch, Hon. William Miller, Hon. John Stanly, 
Hon. Bartlett Yancey, Hon. Gabriel Holmes, Bev. John Witherspoon, 
D. D., and Kemp Plulnmer and Alfred Moore, Esquires, in the year 1817, 
and continued to hold it until his resignation in 1828. 

It was as a Judge that the subject of this memoir was most generally 
known; and for the judicial office, he had many eminent qualifications. 
He was unquestionably a man of genius, and in early life he had studied 
with assiduity and success the principles of the common law, and had 
made himself familiar with its t grounds and reasons. He was never con- 
tent until he had thoroughly comprehended whatever he met with in the 
course of his reading. The writer well remembers hearing him say, that 
on one occasion while he was a student, he came upon a passage in Bacon's 
Abridgement, which he could not understand ; and, his preceptor being 
from home, so that he could not then get it explained, he came very near 
throwing aside his books in despair, and abandoning the profession forever. 
Later in life, he could not so well endure the fatigue' of reading books, 
and relied much — perhaps tco much — on his recollection of principles, 
and his power of reasoning upon them. Hence, we find his opinions less 
fortified than usual by reference to adjudicated cases and the citation of 
elementary treatises. He had an honest, as well as strong mind, and in all 
his arguments we find predominant an anxious search after truth. For 
this reason he was restive, when he found himself opposed by precedents 
which he thought were unsupported by principle. Whatever fault he had 
as a Judge, was owing to this disposition ; but notwithstanding that, he 
must always be regarded as standing high among those who before and. 
after him, have adorned the supreme court bench of North Carolina. A 
fair specimen of his knowledge of legal principles, and of his powers of 
argumentation, may be found in the opinion delivered by him in the case 
of Taylor vs. Shuford, 4 Hawks' Kep. 126. The case was argued very 
elaborately and ably by Mr. Joseph Wilson for the plaintiff, and Mr. 
Badger for the defendant; and Judge Henderson, in his Opinion, dis- 
cusses with great clearness and force the abstruse and difficult doctrines 
of estoppel and ■warranty, with, however, scarce a reference to an adjudged 
case, or an elementary work. 

We have said that the Judge was, in early life and in manhood, imbued 
with the principles of infidelity. We have heard, and state it with 
pleasure, that a short time before his death, he. professed a belief in Jesus 
Christ as the Saviour of men. 

The Judge left surviving him a widow and five children, having lost 


202 Memoir of Chief Justice Henderson. [November 

bis youngest son, Richard, three years before bis own deatb. Of these, 
bis widow and bis first and tbird sons, Archibald Erskine and John 
Leonard, have since died. Archibald married Anne, the only daughter, 
and only surviving child of one of bis father's earliest and best friends, 
Richard Bullock, Esq., of Warren county ; and by her has left several 
children. John died unmarried and without issue. Of the Judge's sur- 
viving children, the eldest daughter, Fanny, married Dr. William V. 
Taylor, with whom she now lives in Memphis, Tennessee. The second 
daughter, Lucy, married Dr. Richard Sneed, and they are both still living 
in Henderson, Kentucky. William Farrar, the second son, studied medi- 
cine, and afterwards married Agnes Hare, and settled in Williamsborough, 
Granville county, where he is, and has been for many years, engaged in the 
successful practice of his profession. It is' to him that the writer is mainly 
indebted for the materials which have enabled him to present this brief and 
imperfect, but sincere tribute to the memory of a great and good man. 

1859.] Horace — LeSage — and Byron. 204 





If, by some uncontrollable destiny, a second Alexandrian destruction of 
books should occur, many would rush forward to save some long cherished 
favorite. Admirers of the sententious would emulously pounce upon 
Quintus Horatius Flaccus ; — Gril Bias would be plucked from the flames 
by the admirers of the graphic' description of daily scenes in the actual 
business of life ; while, if all else belonging to the effusions of Byron's 
genius had perished, the loss would be deeply deplored, but speedily for- 
gotten, if some bolder hand had succeeded in the rescue of Don Juan. 

Horace — Le Sage — Byron — a trio how like, yet how dissimilar ! How 
like in the design and general drift of their argument — how dissimilar in 
the means of its development. 

Let us take them on the broad basis of morality. On the basis of mor- 
ality, the second epistle of Horace deserves to be traced in characters of 
gold. It may be styled the moralist's Vade Mecum — a " Book of Pro- 
verbs" in miniature. "Poor Richard" himself is not more pithy in max- 
ims how to live and how to acquire credit in living. Further on, nothing 
can excel the picture of a blackguard — the specimen of specious black- 
guardism occasionally to be met with now, as then, in every grade of 
society : 

******* absentem qui rodit amicum, 

Qui non defendit alio culpante ; solutos 

Qui capiat risus hominum famamque dicacis ; 

Fingere qui non visa potest ; commissa tacere 

Qui nequit, hie niger est — hunc tu, Bomane, caveto. 

His own countryman, Quintilian, summed up the merit, the peculiar 
charm of the style of Horace, whether lyric, epistolary, satiric, or didactic, 
in two words — Curiosa eelicitas : Our contemporary, Sir Edward 
Lytton Bulwer, has reiterated the sentiment, while expanding the expres- 
sion : " No author is equal to Horace for quotation, ethical or political." 

G-il Bias is the very poetry of actual existence. Waiving in toto the 
question whether, or not, the work is original, or a copy from the Spanish, 
we may well rest satisfied to take it as we find it — to take it as an original 
French work, and not suffer any doubt to disturb the complacency of wil- 
ling belief in the testimony of an inscription over a door of a house at 
Boulogne-sur-mer, — " Ici est mort VAutew de Gil Bias. 19 

20-i Horace — Le Sage — and Byron. [November 

And what is the great moral instruction to be derived from this work ? 
Much and manifold. For youth, lessons of vanity, lessons of credulity; 
for middle age, lessons of sobriety, lessons of self-knowledge, lessons of 
moderation in prosperity, of fortitude in adversity; of prudence in the 
economy of domestic life, together with warning precepts and examples 
of the instability of Court favor, abundantly illustrating the truth of the 
text — "Put not your trust in Princes;" — examples holding up to our 
scorn the jealousies, the burnings, the meanness of spirit, among the cring- 
ing dependants of the Great ; — and yet, shining through all the gloom of 
bitter disappointment, when the goal of Ambition seemed so nearly reach- 
ed, the Star of Friendship cheering the sacred home — Retreat of that 
Ambition trancpiillized — of that worn and weary Spirit so often wrung 
with anguish for the hope deferred, which maketh the heart sick. 

These are some of the prominent lessons to be drawn from the ever- 
moving scenes of actual existence depicted in Gil Blas : not one to which 
each and every of us, who have reached the verge of seniority, may not, 
by the change of a single word, apply to himself the playful banter of 
Horace — ********* mutato nomine de te Fabida 

I believe it is Scott who brings forward, as a masterly specimen of in- 
sight into the workings of human passion, that passage in "Le Diable 
Boiteux," where the two rival authors, after mutually exhausting the bit- 
terest acrimony of invective suggested by the most rancorous animosity, 
are finally brought to exchange the outward forms of reconciliation — " they 
embrace, and part, hating each other more bitterly than ever." 

As a counterpart in acumen of penetration, I venture to specify the 
closing scene between Gil Bias and the Archbishop of Grenada, which his 
offended Reverence abruptly terminates by giving his too critical secreta- 
ry a draft on the Treasurer of the Archiepiscopal household, as compen- 
sation for time and service devoted to the transcription of elaborate Homi- 
lies, accompanied by a most significant push on the shoulders in the direc- 
tion of the door, together with the following antithetical aphorism : — " Je 
ne trouve point du tout mauvais que vous me disiez voire sentiment ; e'est 
voire sentiment seul queje trouve mauvais." 

" But what ? is thy servant a clog, that he should do this great thing V 
Such are the words of unbelief respecting his own future course of ini- 
quitous misconduct uttered by one, in whom divinely prophetic vision 
plainly discerned the change of temper that would attend the change of 
Fortune. In following the vicissitudes experienced by Gil Bias, we have,! 
in humbler sphere, a fine illustration of self-ignorance engrafted on over-[ 
weening arrogance, the growth of sudden prosperity, when he roundly 
denies acquaintance with his fellow villager, the grocer's son ; and, still 

1859.] Horace — Le Sage — and Byron. 205 

worse, turns an adder's ear, and steels his breast against the natural emo- 
tions and promptings of filial affection, when his plain-spoken fellow towns- 
man — the would-be-forgotten comrade of early days at home — stoutly in- 
sists, that the son, in his present state of comparative affluence, should 
extend the liberal hand of relief to the poverty and privations of his aged 

The subsequent remorse of the repentant son, his pious plan of atone- 
ment, the visit to his native village just in time to witness the dying gasp 
of his old, bedridden father, and the dotard imbecility of his half-expiring 
uncle, but too late for a glimpse of recognition by either, unless it might 
be a conjectural one; his fruitless attempt to conciliate the good will of 
the sturdy towns-folk, despite the ostentation of profuse liberality, now 
tauntingly rejected as a mere display of purse-proud insolence, — these, 
and other similar passages alone, might secure for their author the rank 
of a moralist of first-rate order — of no common searcher into the springs 
of human action. 

Allow me to adduce another instance of retributive justice meted out 
to the principal offenders in such a way as to make an almost involuntary 
participant in the offence shudder at his own thoughts, when viewing, in 
retrospect, the abyss of crime, on the very verge of which he had trod, re- 
flecting how narrowly he had missed the fall. This revolting picture is 
most vividly given in the frank recital of the too compliant Santillan's 
adventure with the hardened brigand, Don Raphael. Assuming the garb 
of officers despatched by the terrible Inquisition, they plunder the 
strong box of a converted Jew. Long after restitution had been made of 
Ms share of the spoil — when, perhaps, the very remembrance of the pec- 
cadillo had faded and grown dim in the distance of time and oblivion, 
Gil Bias happens to visit Madrid on the eve of that grand Inquisitorial 
spectacle, an auto da fe : next morning he takes a seat among the assem- 
bled and highly excited crowd of spectators, when, as the ghostly proces- 
sion slowly and solemnly moves on — ! horror ! ! judgment to his self- 
convicted, terror-stricken conscience ! most conspicuous in the march of 
the doomed, he beholds the figures of the all-daring brigand, Raphael, and 
his obsequious accomplice, Lamela. 

I have alluded above to the inscription extant in the town of Boulogne- 
sur-mer : " Ici est mort T Auteur de Gil Bias." I repeat it here in con- 
nection with a just and beautiful tribute to his memory, to which it gave 
origin, and which, I believe, first appeared in the pages of Fraser's Maga- 
zine, shortly after some of the principal contributors to that able periodi- 
cal, set up in business for themselves, after their secession from Blackwood : 

" Ici est mort Le Sage." But what hath died ? 
I would say, what hath perish'd ? Not Gil Bias : 

206 Horace — Le Sage — and Byron. [November 

He lives as heretofore : th' eternal law 

Of change affects him not : he will abide 

From age to age : all countries are his own. 

What then hath perish'd? That corporeal mould, 

Which, like' a minstrel's harp, grown frail and old, 

No longer could respond, in wonted tone, 

Unto the Master's touch. But did the mind, 

That framed the melody and woke the /strings, 

Or did the song itself destruction find 

With that old harp ? ! vain imaginings ! 

The mind and music live— Le Sage hath never died. 

George Gordon Noel Byron- — Lord Byron of Rochdale, in the county 
of Lancaster — alias " Childe Harold" — alias "Cain" — alias "The Cor- 
sair"- — alias " Manfred" — alias " Don Juan"— alias " The Devil" — ac- 
cording to Mr. Laureate Southey's charitable dispensation of titles. Byron ! 
the republican of poets — the poet of aristocracy — well be-cudgelled by 
the crutch of the redoubted Christopher North, what time the temper of 
Christopher soared high, and his arm was vigorous to deal the buffet,-— 
Byron! earnestly and eloquently bewailed by the same Christopher, the 
moment tidings of his untimely death reached his native island ; " and 
thus the descant wild began" : 

Lament for Lord Byron 

In full flow of grief! 
As a sept of Milesians 

Would mourn o'er their chief 
With the loud voice of wailing, 

With Sorrow's deep tone 
We will keen o'er our Poet, 

" All faded and gone." 
Though far in Missolonghi 

His ashes are laid ; 
Though the hands of the stranger, 

His lone grave have made ; 
Yet, Bard of the Corsair, 

High-spirited Childe, 
Thou who sangst of Lord Manfred 

The Destiny wild ; 
Thou bright Star, whose radiance 

Tllumined our verse, 
Our souls cross the blue seas 

To mourn o'er thy hearse, 
Thy faults and thy follies, 

Whatever they were, 
Be their memory dispersed, 

As the winds of the air. 
By me no reproach 

On thy name shall be thrown : 
Let the man who is sinless 

Uplift the first stone. 

That was noble ! But what was there of ignoble about the lamented 
Professor John Wilson ? For he, too, is now gathered to his fathers, — 

1859.] Horace — Le Sage — and Byron. 207 

but maturely, in the plenitude of years, of literary fame, of domestic fe- 
licity. At the time when the news of Byron's death reached England, I 
was a boy — somewhat sensitive, it may be — in the first class of a Gram- 
mar School in my native town — a school chartered and liberally endowed 
by Edward the Sixth, of pious memory. Most of my class-mates being- 
eons of High-Church-and-State party men — a formidable, intolerant, and 
intolerable oligarchy at that early date, when the mere phrase "political 
reform" was a bug-bear, a tocsin of civil discord among our grave and 
reverend seniors — frequent and sharp had been the school-boy dissensions 
on Byronic principles among us impetuous juniors. One memorable 
morning, before I had heard any report of the Poet's death, on entering 
the school, a shout of malignant triumph from first-class adversaries greet- 
ed my advent among them, together with an abrupt and startling an- 
nouncement of the melancholy fact. Instantly I burst into tears — honest, 
boyish tears — tears of soul-felt sorrow for the bereavement, of passionate 
indignation at the illiberal insult to the dead, and I straightway warned 
the perpetrators of it that certain, if tardy, repentance would overtake 
them, for that rash act of ill-timed and most ungenerous exultation. I 
have lived to see the assertion realized. At this late day, when " the griefs 
and passions of our greener age" have subsided, I make the statement 
merely to show the savage acrimony of party feeling co-existent with the 
event, which so basely rankled in the bosoms of the vulgar crowd of aris- 
tocrats, who contemptuously disowned Him, the crowning glory of their 
Order, to expose the temper that dictated the refusal to allow his honored 
remains to be deposited within the walls of Westminister Abbey : 

But little he recks while they let him sleep on 
In the tomb where a sister has laid him, 

There, at the base of that simple monument, and, still more, at the 
shrine of admiration in the hearts of his unprejudiced countrymen, — in 
every heart, in every land capable of appreciating manly excellence, have 
the puny shafts of pitiful malice long ago dropped, blunted, broken, pow- 

The morality of Don Juan has been denied, is denied, and will be de- 
nied ; but if diligently sought after, it may be found. Before enlarging 
on the subject, even moderately, so as to be able to bring it out in proper 
relief, I should wish to apply to my gentle reader, or my patient hearer, as 
the case may be, the prudential caution given to his reader by the thought- 
ful Gril Bias, after the preliminary episode of the two travelling students, 
and the very different result of their very different comments on the bu- 
ried soul of the Licentiate. 

"Qui que tu sois, ami Leeteur, tu vas ressembler \ l'un ou x a l'autre de 

208 Horace — Le Sage — and Byron. [November 

ces deux e'coliers. Si tu lis mes aventures sans prendre garde aux in- 
structions morales qu' elles renferment, tu ne tireras aucun fruit de cet 
ouvrage : mais si tu le lis avec attention, tu y trouveras, suivant le pre'cepte 
d'Horace, l'utile mele' avec l'agre'able." (Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit 
utile dulci.) 

In criticism, self-criticism, criticism of contemporaries and predecessors, 
the comparison between Horace and Byron runs parallel. For Horatian 
illustrations I need only refer to the epistle beginning " Trojani belli scrip- 
torem," &c. ; and those Satires beginning thus — "Eupolis atque Cratinus," 
&c. ; " Nempe incomposito," &c. ; and the Saturnalian colloquy between 
the " great little" poet, himself and his man Davus. These are examples 
specific and to the point. But casually interspersed, with no niggard 
hand, even among the lightest, the most playful of what Horace was pleas- 
ed to style his " pedestrian ' talks," are sentiments of sound morality, of 
enlarged and enlightened views of society, and profound knowledge of 
the manifold and contradictory workings of human passions. Thus, in the 
epistle addressed to his farm steward, or overseer — " Can you, or I, excel : 
you in extirpating briars that check vegetation on the soil of my farm • I, 
in extracting heart-corroding cares — the thorns which choke the growth 
of virtue in the man ?" Again : witness the working of self-reproach for 
"talents wasted, time misspent," of which all, if honest, may, and do, feel 
the bitterness more or less acutely in the secret conviction of their own 
breasts ; the conviction, I mean, of noble resolves on moral reformation 
adopted in "all the magnanimity of thought" — "resolved and re-resolved" 
till " wisdom is pushed out of life." I have seen the lines referred to 
quoted in a book of avowed moral teaching from the pen of an earnest 
well-wisher of his kind, a worthy member of the Methodist Church ; but 
so many years have elapsed since I saw the work, that I have forgotten its 
name and the author's too. At the time of reading it, I thought it high 
commendation, indeed, that the sentiments and expressions of a Pagan 
should be cited in order to enforce the inculcation of Christian doctrine. 
But we know there was standard authority for the practice in the prece- 
dent given by St. Paul in his quotation from the Greek drama; and the 
modern Christian brought no discredit either on matter or manner by quo- 
ting the passage in question : 

" Ut nox longa * * * * * * * diesque 
Longa videtur opus debentibus ; ut piger annus 
Pupillis, quos dura premet custodia matrum : 
Sic mihi tarda flmint ingrataque tempora, quce spem 
Consiliumque morantur agendi gnaviter id quod 
JEque pauperibus prodest, locupletibus ceque, 
JEque neglectum senibus puerisque nocchil." 

Persons disposed to cavil — and their name is Legion — object to Horace 

1859.] Horace — Le Mage — -and Byron. 209 

on account of sycophancy. Such persons make not due allowance for the 
times and the custom of the times in which Horace lived. With that in- 
genuous candor, which marks all the productions of his wit, Horace frank- 
ly admits he threw away his shield at Philippi, and ran. So Gil Bias, 
on several occasions, honestly tells the reader that all the vicissitudes of 
ever varying Fortune had not taught him bravery : he was at any time 
ready to transfer the glory of an incidental passage at arms to any one 
willing to incur the risk of taking it. Horace, then, having no chance of 
winning promotion, or renown, by the sword — belonging, too, to the van- 
quished political party in the State, made no scruple of paying court to 
the Powers that were. As a scholar, and one who, doubtless, felt the di- 
vinity that stirred within him, he naturally sought to restore his shattered 
fortunes — quassas reficere naves — by the pen, and, in mere compliance 
with the fashion of his compeers, sought patronage and found it. This 
as naturally led to expressions of gratitude, which were, no doubt, sincere. 
If, to us moderns of sterner republican mould, some of these grateful effu- 
sions savor too strongly of sycophancy, specimens enough in the same 
vein may be" found among writers Spanish, Italian, French, and English. 
Just revert to the days when dedication was a trade — the days of 
Dryden and his fraternity ; — nay, the Bible itself, I should rather say, our 
standard translation of the Bible executed under the royal mandate of 
James the First, contains a sample of the style dedicatory, current at that 
date, too fulsome for repetition in this republican land ; and it has, ac- 
cordingly, been very properly discarded from editions of the Holy Book 
printed and published on this side of the Atlantic. 

As to patronage, what poor devil, out-at-elbow author, be he good, bad, 
or merely indifferent, can do without that ? Perhaps the most unbending 
poet of our days — the least inclined to yield compliance when native 
pride of temper rebelled against the dominion of untoward fortunes, was 
the Rev. George Crabbe : yet, even he has given to the reading public 
a touching statement of the agony of mind in which he paced Westmin- 
ster Bridge, through the long, long hours of the night preceding the 
morning when he expected to hear final doom on the productions of his 
poetical genius pronounced by a self-selected patron, Chancellor Thurlow. 
He did hear it, and from that day Fortune frowned no .longer. One such 
case is as good as a hundred. 

But even allowing that Horace is delinquent on the scorce of flattery 
to the Great, an admission, however, of no importance to the " general 
issue" of his rare excellence as a poet and a moralist, the manly candor 
of his nature is finely displayed in the several passages evincing truly filial 
regard for his father — a revelation which makes ample amends for the 
seeming delinquency. Here is no backsliding: here his merit shines 


210 Horace — Le Sage — and Byron. [November 

■with a lustre all its own : no faltering here, as would have been the case 
with a nature intrinsically mean : this trait alone shows the sterling worth 
of the man. It is in bright contrast with what I have recently heard re- 
specting the conduct — the mt's-conduct, rather, of a celebrated contempo- 
rary of ours beyond the Atlantic — one who, as an author, counts admirers 
by thousands on both sides of the Atlantic. Not to be misunderstood, I 
mean Charles Dickens. What I heard was this, to wit, that the cause of 
separation from his wife was the exceedingly magnanimous one of the 
chivalrous Charles now deeming the partner of his early and more obscure 
fortunes too far below the exalted standard of his now more widely ex- 
tended reputation. 

There is nothing of this about Horace : herein we have him every inch 
a man : a model to every generation of parvenus. Whatever distinction 
he achieved by the exercise of native ability improved by careful instruc- 
tion of first-rate teachers, he cheerfully attributes to the fostering care and 
vigilant attention of an indulgent but discriminating father. We have, I 
believe, something like it in this our own day on the part of the French 
author, Dumas, of somewhat swarthy renown. Said a pert and pretty 
dandy of the modern mode to Dumas : " I believe your father was a mu- 
latto ?" " Yes," replied Dumas. " And your grandfather" — Dumas, 
confronting him fiercely, again replied — " was a negro, and his grandsire 
a monkey : my pedigree began where yours has ended." 

This excursus being intended for no elaborate discussion of merits and 
demerits, but merely an off-hand sketch of whatever comes uppermost, en 
passant, it may be thought relevant to wind up with a few incidental 
glances at Byronic peculiarities. 

It might easily be shown that a very predominant quality in the tem- 
perament of Byron as a man and an author — that quality which too often 
spoils his wonderful powers for effect more than any other, is affectation. 
He began to exhibit this leaven in his nature at a very early day; and in 
nothing more did he show it than in his pretended depreciation of Horace, 
to be found in Childe Harold. Regarding other authors, and men who 
were not authors, he subsequently made fair and honorable retraction : 
not so with Horace, that is to say, in formal phrase, not so ; but in-form- 
ally and inferentially he did substantially retract by quoting him when- 
ever it suited the context, and that was pretty often ; so that he laid him- 
self under nearly as many obligations of this kind to the " great little" poet, 
after bidding him final adieu on the ridge of Soracte, as William Cobbett 
used to say his political opponents did to him. "Ay," said Cobbett, 
" they affect to sneer, and call it ' twopenny trash;' but they send for it, 
nay, call themselves and buy it at my shop in Fleet Street." 

This spirit of affectation is very unfavorable to any author : it is cal- 


1859.] Horace — Le Sage — and Byron. 211 

culated to throw doubt on opinions, which one could wish to believe, with 
perfect assurance of faith, to be sincere. However, in a character of ac- 
knowledged eccentricity, like that of Byron, perhaps the best way is to 
give full latitude to eccentricity — which, if you are unwilling to give, ec- 
centricity will take — and, if the opinion is worth having, take it for what 
it is worth. As a case in point : it is difficult to believe in Byron's sin- 
cerity throughout his critical letter to Murray on Bawles's " Strictures on 
Pope." But, sincere or not, the following paragraph contains so much 
that is excellent in its application to poetical, and would-be poetical, writers 
of our generation, that no apology is needed for its introduction, nor even 
for its length. In fact, before we reach the end of it, it will be clearly 
seen that Byron expected his own sincerity would be doubted — a very 
natural misoivins; : 

" The attention of the poetical populace of the present day to obtain an 
ostracism against Pope is as easily accounted for as the Athenian's shell 
against Aristides : they are tired of hearing him always called ' the Just.' 
They are also fighting for life ; for if he maintains his station, they will 
reach their own falling. They have raised a mosque by the side of a Gre- 
cian temple of the purest architecture; and, more barbarous than the 
barbarians from whose practice I have borrowed the figure, they are not 
contented with their own grotesque edifice, unless they destroy the pi'ior 
and purely beautiful fabric which preceded, and which shames them and 
theirs for ever and ever. I shall be told that among these I have been 
(or it may be still am) conspicuous — true, and I am ashamed of it. I 
have been amongst the builders of this Babel, attended by a confusion of 
tongues, but never amongst the envious destroyers of the classic temple of 
our predecessor. I have loved and honored the fame and name of that 
illustrious and unrivalled man, far more than my own paltry renown, and 
the trashy jingle of the crowd of 'schools' and upstarts, who pretend to 
rival and even surpass him. Sooner than a single leaf should be torn 
from his laurel, it were better that all which these men, and that I, as one 
of their set, have ever written, should 

Line trunks, clothe spice, or, fluttering in a row, 
Befringe the rails from Bedlam or Soho. 

"There are those who will believe this, and those who will not. You, 
Sir, know how far I am sincere, and whether my opinion in the short work 
intended for publication, and in private letters which can never be pub- 
lished, has or has not been the same. 


" If the essence of poetry must be a lie, throw it to the dogs, or banish 
it from your republic, as Plato would have done. He who can reconcile 
poetry with truth and wisdom, is the only true l }ioet ' in its real sense : 

212 Horace — Le Sage — and Byron. [November 

the 'maker,' the 'creator' — why must this mean the 'liar,' the 'feigner' 
the ' tale-teller' ? A man may make and create better things than these." 
The very different style, and, still more, the widely different subjects 
adopted by Byron from the commencement of Don Juan, are the best 
guarantee that he icas sincere. Feeling, as he did, the truth of his mot- 
to — "Difficile est proprie communia dicere" — he would never otherwise 
have descended from that heaven-kissing hill of lofty invention to traverse 
the muddy or dusty highways and byways of common life. No doubt the 
Bard spoke truly when, in a mood of self-criticism, he says : 

" I don't pretend that I quite understand 
My own meaning when I would be very fine." 

The change in his practice of composition well exemplifies his own as- 
sertion elsewhere made, that 

" Time and skill will couch the blind." 

! but Don Juan is immoral ! a Deist ! ! an Atheist ! ! ! Renuo ne- 
goque. No one denounced more strongly than Byron the folly of his 
friend, Shelley, when the latter, in a spirit of absurd bravado, subscribed 
* Theos to his own name on some public record. And, again, vide Byron's 
Preface to Cantos 6, 7 and 8 of Don Juan. After a fierce tirade against 
the memory of "the Werther of Politics," Castlereagh, Byron adds: 
"With regard to the objections that have been made on another score 
(to wit, the score of immorality,) to the already published Cantos of this 
poem, I shall content myself with two quotations from Voltaire : 

" La pudeur s'est enfuite des coeurs et s'est refugie'e sur les levres." 

" Plus les moeurs sont deprave'es, plus les expressions devienment me- 
eure'es : on croit regagner en langage ce qui' on a perdu en vertu." 

It is a hackeyed adage, " the Devil can quote Scripture to serve his 
end ;" but Voltaire was not Moses, nor yet one of the Apostles. Voltaire 
was a man of the world ; Byron was another : in quoting the former the 
latter does no more than claim the common privilege — " to be tried by a 
jury of his peers." 

As to the charge of infidelity, or even deism, that charge has to be 
taken, if taken at all, on trust entirely. The poem of Don Juan itself- — 
a poem written with greater freedom of language than any thing from 
Byron's pen, contains abundant internal evidence that he was neither In- 
fidel nor Deist. His attendant, Fletcher, records that on his death-bed 
Byron used this remarkable expression : " I am not afraid of dying ; I am 
more fit to die than people think." When John C. Calhoun felt death 
approaching him he could not refrain from uttering an expression of sur- 
prise that some one should seek an interview then, for the avowed purpose 
of preparing him for an event "which," said the dying statesman, "has 
en^aoied my attention all rav life." 


1859.] Horace — Le Sage — and Byron. 213 

Ah ! my friends, it is not for such men to neglect the grand concern of 

One passage from Don Juan to this purpose will suffice : 

Some kinder casuists are pleased to say, 

In nameless print, that I have no devotion ; 
But set those persons down with me to pray, 

And you shall see who has the properest notion 
Of getting into heaven the shortest way ; 

My altars are the mountains and the ocean, 
Earth, air, stars, all that springs from the Great Whole, 

Who hath produced, and will receive, the soul. 

Again : 

Some have accused me of a strange design 

Against the creed and morals of the land, 
And trace it in this poem, every line ; 

I don't pretend that I quite understand 
My own meaning when I would be very fine ; 

But the fact is that I have nothing plann'd, 
Unless it was to be a moment merry, — 

A novel word in my vocabulary. 

They accuse me — me — the present writer of 

The present poem, of — I know not what — 
A tendency to underrate and scoff 

At human power, and virtue, and all that ; 
And this they say in language rather rough: 

Good God ! I wonder what they would be at? 
I say no more than has been said in Dante's 

Verse, and by Solomon, and Cervantes. 

Those who wish to see more in the same strain will find it, quantum 
tuff., in the opening stanzas of the 7th canto ; for I might go on quoting 
ad libitum if not ad finitum. No doubt the origin of all thjs bitterness 
and detraction may be traced to the violence of political antagonism, on 
which side, be it always remembered, was arrayed the Bench of Bishops 
in all the plenitude of lawn sleeves and inflated with the dignity of impla- 
cable prejudice. 

Having ventured to arraign the author of Childe Harold and Don Juan 
on the charge of affectation, it would be unpardonable to close without 
bringing forward in striking relief his most admirable characteristics, pa- 
triotism and humanity. 

The patriotism of Byron was of sterling stamp : wherever and whenever 
the occasion demands, he stands forward, the bold, uncompromising cham- 
pion of the people. To him tyrranny in every form, in every shadow of 
a form, was an utter abomination : 

It made his blood boil, like the springs of Hecla, 
To see men let those scoundrel tyrants break law. 

Listen to his indignant comment on Sulvarrow's blasphemous despatch 
to the Empress Catharine after the storming of Ismail : 


214 Horace — Le Sage — and Byron. [November 

With bloody hands he -wrote his first despatch, 

And here exactly follows what he said : 
" Glory to God and to the Empress I" (Poivers 

Eternal! such names mingled !) " Ismail's ours ! 
Methinks these are the most tremendous words, 

Since " Mene, Mene, Tekel" and " Upharsin," 
Which hands or pens have ever traced of swords : 

##.#*# the prophet wrote no farce on 
The fate of nations ; but this Russ, so witty, 

Could rhyme, like Nero, o'er a burning city. 

He wrote this polar melody, and set it, 

Duly accompanied by shrieks and groans, 
Which few will sing, I trust, but none forget it, 

For I will teach, if possible, the stones 
To rise against earth's tyrants. Never let it 

Be said, that we still truckle unto thrones ; 
But ye, our children's children, think how we 

Show'd what things were before the world was free. 

That hour is not for us, but 'tis for you ; 

And as, in the great joy of your millennium, 
You hardly will believe such things were true 

As now occur, I thought that I would pen you 'em ; 
But may their very memory perish too ! 

And when you hear historians talk of thrones, 

And those that sate upon them, let it be 
As we now gaze upon the mammoth's bones, 

And wonder what old world such things could see. 

The interest of the subject and the zeal of the poet in the advocacy of 
Eight and«the denouncement of Wrong, will, I trust, prove a sufficient 
apology for the length of the quotation. 

The characteristic of humanity may be more briefly, but quite as effi- 
ciently illustrated by exhibiting the conduct of the Don during the excite- 
ment of battle. In the general rush to the assault, he rescues a lovely 
female child prostrate by the side of her dead mother, from the uplifted 
swords of infuriated Cossacks. The city " is taken but not surrender'd" : 
the bloody contest closed — 

When Juan is sent off with the dispatch, 
For which all Petersburgh is on the watch. 

This special honor'was conferr'd because 

He had behaved with courage and humanity ; 

Which last men like when they have time to pause 
From their ferocities produced by vanity. 

His little captive gained him some applause, 
' For saving her amidst the wild insanity 

Of carnage, and I think he was more glad in her 
Safety, than his new order of St. Vladimir. 

1859.] Horace — Le Sage — and Byron. 215 

To sum up concisely: Don Juan is not strictly a domestic poern; but 
it is not dangerous : let it be regarded as the latest offspring of Byron's 
matured wit, more novel in style, more complex in subject, than any thing 
he ever wrote before. Thus regarded, Don Juan, as a whole, carries the 
antidote along with the bane, and is not, therefore, dangerous, although 
not domestic. And such it will be found by any and every liberal minded 
reader imbued with a right spirit of discrimination between the satirical 
and the serious, the whimsical and the quizzical. So here I halt — finish- 
ing this excursus with more lines from the text — lines which were proph- 
ecy then ; now they are prophecy fulfilled : 

Thus far go forth, my lay, which I will back 

Against the same given quantity of rhyme, 
For being as much the subject of attack, 

As ever yet was any work sublime, 
By those who love to say that white is black. 

So much the better ! I may stand alone, 

But would not change my free thoughts for a throne. 

Nor did he : hence the world holds in possession a literary production 
of human wit unique, matchless in its kind — best described by the words 
of Philips on Napoleon — the First Napoleon — "without a model, and 
without a shadow." 

216 The Heart of a Friend is tlte Home of the Soul. [November 



When through the vast mazes of learning we tread, 

And muse on the thoughts of sages of old ; 
"What a banquet of reason, their learning has spread, 

Yet the heart will be sad, with no home for the soul. 

'Tis true, at this feast, the rarest supplies, 

Of reason and learning, their thoughts may unfold ; 

Yet the heart may be sad, and speak but in sighs, 
Since the heart of a friend is the home of the soul. 

The garlands of fame may cluster around, 

Alluring the young and dazzling the old ; 
Still a want in the soul will ever be found, 

While the heart of a friend is the home of the soul. 

The bowels of earth with jewels abound — 

With myriads of gems more precious than gold ; 

Yet there's nothing in nature more sacred is found, 
Than the heart of a friend — the home of the soul. 

Yes, the treasures of earth may be heaped at your feet, 

And you the rich casket of jewels behold; 
Still you sigh for some lone — some sacred retreat — 

'Tis the heart of a friend — the home of the soul. 

The monarchs of earth their sceptres may bear, 

And misers may hoard their millions of gold ; 
Yet I sigh not for these — since affection I share, 

And find in my friend a home for my soul. 

The learned may boast of the powers of mind, 

And Reason, her worth may proudly unfold ; 
Yet, still, there is something more precious / find, 

'Tis the heart of a friend — the home of the soul. 

The poets may sing of Nature's grand scheme, 

And soft touch the lute, from whence music may roll ; 

Or the lover may tell of some fairy-bright dream, 
Yet these are no rests — no home for the soul. 

Then sing on, ye muses, and boast all who will, 

Of sceptres, of learning, of love, or of gold ; 
Yet there's something more holy — more heavenly still, 

'Tis the heart of a friend — the home of the soul. 

Now my song is complete, and forever I rest, 
Unmoved by the cares which of others are told ; 

Since I above others with this treasure am blest, 
And find in my friend a home for my soul. 

1859.] Uniformity is Needed. 217 


To the reflecting mind that desires to look upon things in the clear light 
of reason with the scrutinizing eye of a philosopher, many strange and in- 
explicable things appear in men's conduct. We frequently hear men speak 
of the beauties and wonders of nature, in and around them, and discourse 
in rapturous strains of the great simplicity and uniformity which every 
where characterize natural phenomena. They tell us of means adapted to 
an end — that every thing has its. particular place assigned it, and its pe- 
culiar functions to perform, in the economy of nature — that there is no 
jarring — no discordant sounds in nature's lute — but that all apparent dis- 
cord is harmony misunderstood, and they deduce from all this, as a natural 
consequence, that this great simplicity and uniformity in the works of 
nature, this adaptation of means to an end, is but an evidence of the wis- 
dom and goodness of that Wise and Holy Being who has made and sus- 
tains all these things. While, on the other hand, they all unite in con- 
demning, as far as words may go, opinions founded on prejudice, and speak 
disparagingly of those whose actions are influenced by caprice, and lament 
the evil which has been done. Thus the great majority of men are prone 
to act and speak of those around them; but few — very few — ever bring 
the question home and seriously ask themselves if they may not be like- 
wise guilty. This practice is not confined to the illiterate more than to 
the Literati; and, we are inclined to think, that the prejudices of the 
learned, once formed, are much more difficult to be removed than those of 
the untutored mind. We often hear the number of our schools and col- 
leges, which are every where springing up around us, spoken of with 
great complacency — and justly, too, we think — as an evidence of our rapid 
advancement in the scale of improvement. All these institutions have 
the same avowed object in view: to disseminate information among the 
masses. Their founders wish to scatter broadcast over our land the seeds 
of knowledge — to enlighten the poor — instruct the rich — elevate the 
standard of morality, and ameliorate the condition of men in all ranks of 
society. Now, reasoning a jiriori, should we not expect to find these all 
working together in the most harmonious concert? But' what are the 
facts of the case? Is there any concert of action among them? Or, 
rather, is there not as little as they possibly can help? Who has ever 
heard of a convention composed of delegates, representing the respective 
interests of the different colleges in our country, deliberating upon the 
best means of training the human intellect ? Such a thing would strike 
many as being something new under the sun. But why should it be looked 


218 Uniformity is Needed. [November 

upon as a strange thing, that Professors should meet in convention to de- 
liberate upon matters in which all should be equally interested ? No pos- 
sible reason can be assigned why they should not. Farmers frequently 
assemble and deliberate with one -another, and think that the interests of 
agriculture are much advanced by a cordial interchange of opinions, not- 
withstanding the diversities of their soil and climate; and the husband- 
man has, it is well known, to contend with many things which no human 
skill can either foresee or provide against. Moreover, are not our mer- 
chants in the constant habit of meeting together to consider matters rela- 
tive to their calling; and, in fact, do not men in almost every branch of 
business find it to their special advantage to communicate to one another 
their views upon, and modes of operating in, their respective employments? 
Is, then, the business of the educator different from that of all others? 
Does it form an exception to all other rules? Is it the only business in 
which an interchange of views is not beneficial? Are its rules so plain 
that even a child may comprehend them without an effort, or is the train- 
ing of the human intellect — the God-like part of man — regarded as a thing 
of less importance than learning how to make money and things of that 
nature ? No : surely not. Many, in this our so called enlightened age, 
devoutly worship at the shrine of Mammon ; and the almighty dollar, in 
the eyes of some, is paramount to all other considerations; yet, we hope, 
it has not yet got so ruinous a hold upon the hearts of all. But why is 
there so little concerted action, on the part of the Professors in our col- 
leges ? Are the Professors jealous of one another? Are they afraid that 
the interests of their respective institutions will be injured by the grow- 
ing prosperity of those around them? Would not such fears be ground- 
less ? Is there not need of all the literary institutions in our country, and 
is there not work enough for them all to do ? We think so. Will our 
Professors, then, who are training the youth of our country, upon whose 
shoulders the mantles of their fathers must soon fall, admit that they 
themselves are laboring under the influence of prejudice and caprice ? 
They, of all men, should be free and liberal thinkers — men of enlarged 
views. In almost all the departments usually taught in our colleges, 
there is scarcely a single text-book to be found which has been uniformly 
adopted, if it is a branch of education upon which many men -have under- 
taken to write what are termed text-books. Take, for instance, the ancient 
languages. How many grammars of them, prepared by different authors, 
can there be found, and almost every college has adopted some favorite 
one; and so it will be found with almost all the departments of learning 
now usually taught in our colleges : and these text-books, when once se- 
lected, are clung to with a tenacity that is truly surprising. When a stu- 
dent begins a new branch of study, he is generally required to commit to 

1859.] Uniformity is Needed. 219 

memory its leading truths, rules, and definitions, and to give these, when 
called upon, very often in the precise order and language of the book. 
Now, this does pretty well while he remains at the same institution and 
under the care of the same instructor; hut if he, by chance, is under the 
necessity of going to another institution, he will find, perhaps, that another 
author is used there, having the same truths expressed in a different phra- 
seology and arranged in an order quite different. Well, under these cir- 
cumstances he is too often under the necessity of unlearning what he had 
previously learned, and to begin to memorize a new phraseology. Some 
Professors, it is true, do not care, so that the student gives the idea, whence 
he may have obtained it, or in what words he may express it; provided, 
he draws from the " pure well of English undefiled :" but these, it must 
be confessed, are rather exceptions to the general rule. In Greek, for 
example, a student is taught to pronounce Eta like long e by one instruc- 
tor ; and, if he happens to go to another, this one, perhaps, tells him that 
his pronunciation is wrong, and that he should learn to pronounce Eta 
like long a; and so it is, we are persuaded, with respect to many other 
things which are a vast deal more important, and so it will be found with 
regard to many things in almost every department usually taught in our 
colleges. The pronunciation of a language, perhaps, some one will say, 
is a very small thing; and so it may be considered; but we are often told 
that " what is worth doing at all, is worth doing well;" and, we presume, 
that it is just as applicable to the ease now under consideration as to any 
other. Besides, we think no one can properly lay claim to scholarship in 
any language, unless he is able to pronounce it accurately. 

But even if nothing more than the adoption of a uniform mode of pro- 
nunciation could be effected, it would, in our opinion, be an object well 
worthy of the attention of any one who might be instrumental in bringing 
it about. But this would scarcely be a tithe of the good which it is like- 
ly would result from such meetings. " Fellow feeling," it is said, "makes 
us wondrous kind," and education which is now too often attempted to be 
promoted by the dis-united efforts of sectarian institutions, would become, 
as it ought to be common ground whereon all could cordially meet and 
stimulate one another to redouble their exertions in the advancement of 
this great and glorious work, although they might differ on almost every 
other point. The " hue and cry" would no longer be raised against those 
institutions which receive some support from the public treasury, and 
members of the different religious denominations would no longer, as now 
they too often seem to do, feel that they are not at all concerned in the pro- 
motion of a sound and liberal education outside of the particular institu- 
tions founded by their respective churches. We have no dislike to sec- 
tarian institutions of learning ; but, on the contrary, we think they have 

220 Uniformity is Needed. [November 

done, and, no doubt will continue to accomplish, much good ; but if har- 
mony everywhere prevailed among them, a great deal more good might be 
effected. It seems almost self-evident that if our Professors would fre- 
quently meet and deliberate upon things pertaining to their profession, a 
much greater degree of uniformity would be the inevitable result ; for it 
seems a very strange thing to us, if all the text-books now used in the 
different colleges, are of equal merit. In such a convention, the relative 
merit of books could be discussed, and their excellencies brought to light 
and their deficiencies made known ; so that we might reasonably expect a 
very marked improvement in this respect. Besides, when it would be 
once known, that only those books would be adopted which should receive 
the sanction of such men, men of ability would sedulously devote them- 
selves to the preparation of such books, feeling that their efforts would be 
appreciated and their labor rewarded ; but, as things now are, superficial 
writers are much more apt to gain popular favor than men of profound 
erudition, whose writings teem with rich and varied thought. Such meet- 
ings would, no doubt, enlarge and liberalize the minds of Professors who 
now too often, we fear, adopt one text-book and become so prejudiced in 
its favor, that they seldom ever judge of others impartially; but if they 
felt that they would have to confront men who had their favorites also, 
and who would earnestly support their claims, they would be much more 
likely to rouse themselves up — shake off their lethargy — think and judge 
with unbiased minds. This uniformity in text-books can, we think, be 
brought about; although time may be requisite to effect the change and, cer- 
tainly, it is a desideratum well worthy of the attention of every true friend 
or education. This want of uniformity in text-books is felt by every one 
less or more, but by no one so much as by the teachers of our preparatory 
schools. Just imagine the perplexity of a teacher at the opening of his 
school, when he is surrounded by a large number of young men, with 
books under their arms, and scarcely any two of them preparing for the same 
college. This book is read at one college, and that at another. This one 
wants to prepare to enter one institution, and that one another. What is 
the man to do ? he is in a quandary — perfect^ nonplused. He, perhaps, 
first looks at this book, and then at that one — rubs his eyes and scratches 
his head as if he was in hopes of stirring up some lurking idea which 
would relieve him of his embarrassment ; but alas ! no relief comes. At 
length, it may be, he sets them all to work, and soliloquizes thus : 
I am really in a fix ; what am I to do ? It is not my intention to 
make a life's business of teaching, if I live many years, but my object now 
is simply and solely to make a little money. These pupils, it is manifest, 
cannot be classed together. Some of their books I have never seen be- 
fore, and I am not too wcjl versed in those I have studied. I cannot, 

1859.] Uniformity is Needed. 221 

however, dismiss them. That would never do. I am too great a friend 
of education for that, especially when I am in want of their tin. Then I 
must endeavor to instruct them, let come what will. I will lahor as hard 
and as faithfully as I can, and, hy means of the extra helps I can get from 
Keys arid Translations, I will take them through the books they desire to 
study, telling them all I chance to know, and when I come to difficulties, 
and who does not? I will put on a knowing look of self-important dignity 
and talk very learnedly, in a high, flowing style, using terms and pretend- 
ed explanations of which I know about as much as the man in the moon, 
and my pupils, although they may not become one whit the wiser by listen- 
ing to me, will conclude that it is a very knotty point, and that it will be 
necessary for them to study diligently many years before they can become 
as familiar with it as their instructor. As for the smaller pupils, since 
they do not bring in much money, they will, of course, receive my atten- 
tion in due proportion. What would not a teacher, under such circum- 
stances, give if the same text-books were uniformly used in all our col- 
leges ; and would it not be decidedly to the advantage of every one who 
patronizes such schools, for then the pupils could be classed and the teach- 
er could give more of his attention to each class, as it is about as easy to 
instruct a pretty large class as it is to instruct one or two. Besides, if the 
books which the teacher had studied were used, he would be more likely 
to be able to instruct his pupils more profitably. We know a teacher 
ought to be able to instruct a class equally well in any text-book; and, so 
he could, if he was a complete master of his subject, but how few are thus 
qualified, and how few will ever be thus qualified, while teaching is made 
only a temporary business — a stepping stone to something else? We know 
men ought to be, and we hope some are, actuated by higher motives than 
the paltry consideration of dollars and cents, to engage in the arduous, 
though noble, business of teaching ; but we fear that too many of our pre- 
paratory schools can be looked on in no other light than that of mere 
money machines, although some of them, it must be confessed, turn out to 
be very poor ones. AVhen a teacher takes a glance, on opening his school, 
at his intended pupils and at the books which they have brought, he must 
be very much reminded of what the Apostle Paul says of the Corinthians 
who came together, each having his particular doctrine, Psalm, &c. But 
there is still another inconvenience connected with this want of uniformity 
in our college systems as regards text-books. Every teacher knows how 
difficult it is to induce parents and guardians to furnish their children and 
wards with such books as he may deem necessary for them, on account of 
their great superiority over those they already have ; for parents and 
guardians too often have the notion that there is no uniformity in text- 
books — that one is about as good as another, and that every teacher wants 

222 Uniformity is Needed. — The Elopement. [November 

to introduce some new book. But this, perhaps, some one will say, does not 
arise from the irregularity of our college systems. We think, however, 
that it does, not directly, it may be said, but none the less because indi- 
rectly. When we wish to eradicate an evil, we endeavor to find the source 
whence it emanates, and there apply the remedy. Colleges are the cen- 
ters of the intellectual world — the heart of enlightened and refined so- 
ciety, whose every throb drives the intellectual current down through the 
academy and common school, as quasi-arteries ; so that its pulsations can 
be distinctly felt and perceived in the most illiterate of our race. 

But we must close this article which is now much longer than we an- 
ticipated. These crude thoughts have been hastily thrown together. We 
are not vain enough to think that we are able to discuss such a subject in 
a manner worthy of its importance. Our object has simply been to call 
attention to the subject. We hope some one who has the leisure and 
ability, will take it up and discuss it in the way in which it should be done, 
until some change is effected. 

■ i n » 



It was towards evening, one day in the autumn of 184 — , when James 
Harvey entered the room of his friend, David Taylor, and found him in a 
very melancholy and desponding state of mind. 

"Why so sad, Davy?" asked Harvey, in a pleasant manner; "Miss 
Martha certainly has not jilted you." 

" No, James, she has not," replied Taylor, " but it is almost the same 
thing; her father swears that we shall never marry, and he is even more 
opposed to the match since our late failure to elope — has forbid me the 
house, and watches the Post Office with a hawk's eye; so you see I can- 
not visit her or even write to her, and if that is not enough to make a man 
sad I should like to know what is." 

Perhaps it would be best for us to introduce the characters in this story 
before we proceed further. David Taylor was a native of oneof the south 
eastern counties of Virginia, but at the time we write he was engaged in 

businessin the beautiful town of W in N. Carolina. Before leaving his 

father's he had " fallen in love," as the saying is, with a beautiful youn^ 

lady whom we shall call Miss Martha L . If any one should ask wh; 

we call her Miss Martha, we will answer because that was her real name] 
and we will furthermore inform the reader that this is a true story, foundec 
on fact, and the names of the parties are nearly all real. Miss Marthsj 
also soon learned to love David, and when, one beautiful afternoon, hJ 

1859.] The Elopement. 223 

made known his love, in " thoughts that breathed and words that burned," 
she was too true a woman too keep him in suspense, and frankly owned 
that his love was reciprocated. But the father of Miss Martha was a 
cross-grained, hard-hearted, selfish, proud old man, and being possessed of 
few more dimes, dollars and darkeys than young Taylor, he declared his 
daughter should never marry a man who was beneath her in point of 
wealth. This being made known to Taylor, and he knowing the old man 
could never be brought over to give his consent, an elopement was agreed 
on. In this the lovers were frustrated, and Taylor was told never to visit 
the house again. 

James Harvey was a whole-souled, generous, good-natured man, and 
though married, he was always up for fun, and was as full of romance 
and love for a good joke as if he were yet single. He was a real genius, 
and though he was born poor, he had educated himself, and had filled the 
various posts of common laborer, overseer, school-teacher, merchant's clerk, 
book-peddler, and editor of a newspaper. He was a friend to every one, 
and the case of young Taylor strongly enlisted his sympathies, for he 
knew him to be a sober, industrious young man, and in every way worthy 
of the girl of his choice. 

" Cheer up, cheer up, my boy," said he to Taylor after he had heard his 
story of disappointment, " don't you remember the quotation about " faint 
heart never won fair lady," &c. ? Besides, you don't understand how to 
steal a girl. I've had some experience in that line, as you know, and 
though even the dogs at my father-in-law's were opposed to my marrying 
Eliza, she was willing and you see we got married, and in less than three 
weeks they were all so glad of it that I began to fear they would eat me 
out of house and home. I was just a leetle too keen for them, and I am 
half a mind to volunteer and go and steal Martha for you." 

" James, this is no joking matter," said Taylor, " I hope you will not 
make sport of me or my troubles." 

" I never was more in earnest in my life," replied Harvey, " and if you 
will do as I say, I will guarantee you shall be married before the end of 
three days." 

" I will do anything, almost," answered Taylor, " but you give me your 

" Let me see," said Harvey, pausing for a moment, " you go up to the 
corner and get a carpet-bag and fill it with books, and in the guise of a 

book-peddler I will outwit old L , and steal Martha for you in spite of 


Taylor well knew Harvey's shrewdness, and it may be readily guessed 
that he needed but little prompting to enter into a. scheme which had for 
its object the securing to him of that which he so highly prized. Suffice 

224 The Elopement. [November 

it to say lie did as he was told, and in a short time the capet-bag filled 
with a choice collection of books, was seated in the room in which the 
above conversation took place. Taylor wrote a letter to Miss Martha, in 
which he told her of his unchanging love, and wound up by asking her to 
elope with his friend, James Harvey, and he would meet them at Gaston. 
This letter he handed to Harvey, who placed it in a book, and the next 
morning took his leave on his mission of love. 

Upon arriving at the depot nearest where old L resided, he alighted 

from the cars, hired a horse, and after making the necessary enquiries as 
to the way, he continued his journey on horse-back, through a cold driz- 
zling rain. 

He soon arrived at the place of his destination, and old L being 

absent, he was greeted with true Virginia hospitality by Mrs. L , who, 

in spite of her husband's morose and selfish nature, was ever ready to 
welcome strangers to her house. 

After a short conversation about the weather, the bad roads, &c., Harvey 
produced his carpet-bag, and wished to know if he could sell the family 
some books, telling them tbat if there was any book which any of them 
wished, he would be travelling through that section again soon, and 
he would bring it. 

" I believe we do not wish to buy any books to-day," said Mrs. L . 

" My husband is out hunting, and I would net like to buy in his absence." 

" I do not charge you anything for looking at what few I have along," 
said Harvey, laying the books out on the table. " Here is a beautiful 
copy of the ' Pilgrim's Progress/ handsomely bound, elegantly illustra- 
ted, and (pointing to the gilt edges) dipped in a kettle of real California 

As he ceased speaking he handed the book to the old lady, who com- 
menced looking at the numerous illustrations it contained. 

" Here's ' Peter Parley's Book of Animals,' " continued he, handing 
the book to a youth of fifteen, who was eagerly gazing on, "just look at 
those animals. And here is ' Youatt on the Horse/ a very interesting 
book for farmers. There are perhaps some of the finest cuts of that noble 
animal you ever saw," handing the book to an elder son of Mr. L 

In this way he soon got a book in" every one's hands, and pointed out 
something to attract the attention of all. Last of the family group he 
came to a young lady, and as Taylor had told him there were two sisters — 
Martha and Mary — and being unacquainted he was at a loss how to pro-l 
ceed. But his business would not admit of delay, and knowing that this 
was his time, he picked up a a copy of " Iiasselas," saying — 
•■• -" Really, -Miss. Mary, you must excuse my want of gallantry in noil 
waiting on you first." 

1859.] The Elopement. 225 

" No apology is needed, sir/' said the young lady addressed, " and, be- 
sides, my name is Martha. I have a sister named Mary, but she is not 
at home." 

" Ah," said Harvey, with evident satisfaction and affected surprise, 
" Mary is a favorite name with me and in addressing young ladies with 
whom I am not acquainted, I always call them Miss Mary. Well, Miss 
Martha," continued he, glancing around to satisfy himself that all were 
engaged, " I have here a beautiful book, ' Rasselas,' by Dr. Johnson, who 
wrote it to defray the expenses of his mother's funeral. Have you ever 
read it?" 

" No, sir," answered Miss Martha. 

" Allow me, then, to point out to you what is said by some to be the 
most beautiful passage in the English language — ' Ye who listen with 
credulity to the whispers of fancy — who pursue with eagerness the phan- 
tom of hope' — here it is," and he opened at the place where Taylor's letter 
was, the chirography of which was instantly recognized by her. 

<; That is beautiful," said she, " I think I should like to buy it. If you 
have no objection, I will take it to my room and look over it." 

" Certainly, you can do so," replied Harvey ; and as she left the room 
an old weather beaten, hard-visaged man of some forty-five years entered. 

" What iu the world are you all doing?" said he as every one raised 
their eyes from the pages of a book. 

" That is my husband, Mr. ." 

" Harvey is my name, madam." 

" Mr. Harvey called in to see if he could sell U3 some books," said Mrs. 
L , addressing her husband. 

" We have got more books now than we read," said old L ; " we've 

the Bible, and that is the only book that should be read, without it is 
Webster's Elementary Spelling Book and Walker's Dictionary." 

" I see your Bible is somewhat worn, and as you are getting on in years, 
and can't see as well as you could in your young days, I should be glad to 
sell you a large family Bible," said Harvey, u I have'nt any along with 
me as they are unhandy, but I can take your name and deliver the book 
when I pass this way again." 

After a protracted conversation on the subject, old L- — -- agreed to 
t;ike a family Bible, and Harvey promised to deliver it when he passed 
tJiut way again. 

Mrs. L , who had retired on the entrance of her husband, now en- 
tered and announced that dinner was waiting, and invited Mr. Harvey to 
go in and dine with her husband, remarking that he was absent at the 
regular dinner hour, which accounted for her predating dmaer at fotu: 


226 The Elopement. [November 

Harvey informed her that he had been to dinner, and after Mr. and Mrs. 

L retired to the dining room, he walked out in the large piazza in 

front of the house for the purpose of getting a drink of water, and here 
he spied the old man's double-barrelled gun which he had leaned against 
the house till he could get time to rub it dry before placing it in its ac- 
customed rack. " Here," said Harvey to himself, " is the old man's main 
dependence, in case he should find out my true business here, and as he 
will not probably go out again with it this evening, I will do him the favor 
to pour about a gill of water in each barrel," and seeing that no one was 
looking he suited the action to the word. He then returned to the sitting 
room, where he found Miss Martha and her two brothers. 

11 This is a very nice book, sir," said Miss Martha, rising and handing 
it to him, " but as father does not believe in buying ' silly books' as he 
calls them, I must deny myself the pleasure of taking it." 

Harvey took the book, placed it in his carpet-bag, and soon after left 
for a neighbor's, who chanced to be a school-teacher, and from whom he 

soon learned that Mr. L and himself were not on very good terms 

and that he (Mr. L — ) did not send to school to him, <tc, &c. 

" Mr. L has a very nice daughter, I believe. I wonder if there 

would be any chance for a young man of prepossessing appearance and 
agreeable manners, like myself for instance, to win her affections," said 
Harvey, giving a knowing wink as he alluded to himself. 

"I believe she is already engaged," said Birch. 

" And why don't she get married ?" asked Harvey. 

" Because the old man is opposed to the match." 

"Then, why don't they run over in North Carolina and have the knot 
adjusted V 

" The young man did try that, but failed," answered Birch. 

" If I had been in your place, and the old bear had taken his children 
from my school as he did from yours, and a young man wanted to run of 
with one of his girls, why I would have helped him," said Harvey. 

"And I would, too, if he had only asked me," said Birch, anxious to 
prepossess Harvey in his favor. 

" Then you are the very man I am after," said Harvey with emphasis 
11 that is my business here, and I have a note from Miss Martha (whic 
he found in ' Rasselas') saying I will have to assist her out at a window ( 
her room to-night, as that is her only chance to escape ; but I do n 
know which is her room, and if I was to get her I do not know how 
get back to the depot in the dark, without assistance. You see what 
want of you." 

" Yes, and I will help you all I can," answered Birch. 

I will now cut a long matter short by saying the teacher went back 

1859.] The Elopement. 227 

old L 's with Harvey, and pointed out Miss Martha's room. Harvey 

went to the window and found Miss Martha in readiness j but the window 
was too high from the ground to admit of her jumping out. Harvey 
went silently to work, and taking the rails from the garden fence near by, 
he built a pen sufficiently high for her to step out of her window on it, 
and thus reached the ground. This he did while several severe dogs were 
in the yard, but which, as iuck would have it, were standing at the kitchen 
door waiting for the bones which where thrown to them by the negroes, 
who had been kept at work late, and who were just eating their supper. 
If I were to tell you that Miss Martha lost one of her shoes in the mud 
before reaching the place where Harvey left his horse, and that Harvey 
went back, climbed in at the window and got her another pair of shoes, 
you might be inclined to doubt the truth of the whole story. But so it 

By the assistance of Birch, Miss Martha was placed on the horse, be- 
hind Harvey, and the two shown to the road leading to the depot, where 
they arrived in safety, and took the cars for Gaston, where they met David 
Taylor. Here the two were made one flesh, and went their way rejoicing — 

" Two souls with but a single thought, 
Two hearts that beat as one." 

After raving about the marriage for several days, the old man, as usual 
in such cases, concluded to make the best of a matter in which he had 
come out second best, and invited Mr. and Mrs. Taylor to his house, where 
a reconciliation took place. When Taylor and his wife left for her father's, 
Harvey instructed Mrs. Taylor to tell the old man that he still had his 
name on his note book and would " certainly bring him that family Bible 
when he passed that way again." 

228 The Sublime. [November 


Those grand, exalted works of nature, "which enchant the mind of the 
spectator and afford the loftiest ideas of the power and wisdom of the 
world's great Architect, are plain illustrations of what is meant by sub- 
limity. At the contemplation of sublime objects, the most delightful emo- 
tions are aroused, the heart swells to its utmost extent, and amid the en- 
thusiasm of the moment all else is forgotten. The very existence of the 
observer is lost sight of, as he seems to rise superior to everything around 
him, and to scorn communion with matters of time and sense, as too mean 
for his thoughts, while visions of more than human greatness and glory 
and splendor are opened to his view, in all the pomp and revelry of a gor- 
geous dream. 

This fascination of the mind and flow of the feelings, which all expe- 
rience at the sight of the majestic works of nature, can have reference to 
nothing peculiar to the objects themselves; since the impressions received 
and the sensations felt are accompanied by no effort on the part of the ob- 
server, either to discover the real cause of such mental excitement, or the 
separate properties and the relations of the individual parts. On the con- 
trary, sublimity is applied to things at a distance, and in which a close in- 
spection is the furthest removed from possibility. The objects must be 
elevated, too, if they would be termed sublime. Their summits must be 
enveloped in obscurity, and the distinguishing mental activity must be the 
result of even one glance of the eye. Thus imposing from their very iso- 
lation, and presenting a marked contrast to everything around, they are 
sure to produce the astonishment, the reverential awe and warmth of feel- 
ing that always attend the consideration of su^h objects. 

It may be urged that the emotions produced by the sublime in nature 
are not always delightful. But I contend that whatever produces a pain- 
ful sensation cannot properly be called sublime. Terror cannot, in my 
opinion, be substituted for sublimity. If, therefore, we were to disregaid 
that respect which seems always due to the opinions of others, and observe 
strict accuracy in the use of words, we should never confound the terrible 
with the sublime. 

Sublimity, then, is the power of objects to produce the particular feel- 
ings that we have mentioned. It is another name for loftiness of style, or 
grandeur of conception. The giant oak of the forest, as it stands peerless 
amid surrounding objects, is certainly a very striking object, and may 
justly be called sublime by one who has never roamed beyond the limits 
of his own horizon. The towering mountain, whose top is lost amid the 

1859.] Tlie Subh'me.-r-The Life and Writings of Edgar A. Foe. 229 

clouds, as it stands an unerring guide to the traveller and perpetuates the 
memory of some famous hero, is one of the most sublime objects to be seen 
by man. 

From this singular influence exerted upon the feelings by the sublime 
in nature, there is an easy transition to tbe sublime in the Fine Arts; 
where the emotions produced are less powerful, but of the same character. 
Sublimity in writing is something eagerly sought for, but seldom reached. 
Indeed, the best writers so often fail when they attempt this style of com- 
position, that excellence in it is not to be expected from the inexperienced. 
But when the judgment is sufficiently matured, and the proper occasion 
presents itself, sublimity in speaking or writing may be employed with a 
powerful effect upon an audience. When it comes forth as the natural 
outburst of the feelings, and rolls onward like the winds and the waves, 
it claims at once the admiration and respect of all. It is, therefore, con- 
ducive to the best interests of a writer. It is so attractive, however, that 
we are apt to begin its use before we have a correct understanding of it; 
in which case, we are certain to fail of the desired effect. 



The character of this truly wonderful and almost mysterious man, while 
it inspires us with a feeling of awe. fails to awaken in our bosoms a senti- 
ment of admiration or esteem. In the contemplation of his strange genius, 
we find ourselves bewildered and almost appalled by his peculiar idiosyn- 
crasies, his strangely wild and ghastly fancies; while the many deficien- 
cies in his moral character make us turn in horror and disgust from 
the manifold and almost unpardonable sins of his misspent life. His 
writings are filled with the weird creations of his fancy, with images of 
horror and with mournful and dreary pictures, which startle us and inspire 
us with unknown dread ; and unlike those of many other authors, they 
present a faithful reflection of his own private character and disposition. 
From these, as well as from testimony the most truthful, because founded 
upon the close observation afforded by daily association with him, we learn 
that he was naturally of a rebellious disposition and ungrateful heart; for 
his independence of spirit, manifest even from childhood, in after years 
degenerated into selfishness, and caused him not only to rebel against the 
will and lawful authority, but even to slander the fair name, of his earliest 
tod most indulgent benefactor. Ambition was the ruling passion of his 

230 The Life and Writings of Edgar A. Poc. [November 

soul ; but ambition with him was not a laudable desire of superiority in 
moral excellence, but a base and inordinate longing after power, acquired 
in whatever way or by whatever means, and exercised only to subvert the 
hopes. of a fellow-being and to sink him to a grade inferior to his own. 
He courted not popular favor in order to be esteemed great or good; he 
sought not the applause of literary men in order to be accounted one of 
their number, and by means of his reputation to make himself profitable, 
or to assist others in being beneficial, to literature; but he sought distinc- 
tion only because he could not brook the idea that he had superiors ; the 
whole aim of his life was absolute power and haughty independence, and 
this principle it was which deprived him of every sense of honor and 
truthfulness. He hesitated not to steal another's literary production and 
publish it as his own, or to tell the most glaring falsehood, when the pros- 
pect of increasing his popularity and of thereby removing another obstacle 
in his desired path to glory, urged him to the act. Indeed, he dared to 
pervert the truth even to such a degree as to accuse of plagiarism the 
very one from whom he had filched a poem, and to attempt to involve in 
his own ruin those for whom he cherished a personal hatred. 

I have already intimated that Poe never enjoyed the reputation of sus- 
taining a good moral character; nor did he therefore deserve that of being 
a pleasant fireside companion. He was from youth addicted to vices of 
the most censurable character; it is not fitting, however, to introduce in 
this place a long catalogue of his follies and crimes, w.iich would fail 
either to delight or interest the reader and might disgust or enrage him; 
besides, some one has said we should speak lightly of the dead, and it is 
far better that the sins of the departed should be forever sunk in oblivion 
than exposed to the public gaze. A mention of his prominent defects, 
then, will suffice. 

The baneful habit of intemperance which he contracted in early life 
wa3 his greatest curse, and finally dragged him over the brink of the grave. 
By the influence of this habit his disposition was sullied, his body ener- 
vated, his mind enfeebled and his bright talents blighted like the green 
shrubs blasted by the hot simoom in the desert. It destroyed whatever 
reputation he ever had, and converted to moroseness whatever goodness of 
heart he ever claimed. While under its influence he sunk into a melan- 
choly stupor or raged with an anger even worse than that of a hungry 
tiger hunting for prey, Then how could he have been a dutiful son, or 
an agreeable companion, since he not unfrequently sipped the sparkling 
wine ? A near relative of his, however, has testified that he was kind and 
gentle at home, and in this way she has endeavored to vindicate his char- 
acter and to wash out the stains of his guilt, or at least to diminish in the 
eyas of the public the enormity of his crimes; and no one will pretend 

1859.] The Lije and Writings of Edgar A. Poe. 231 

that in doing this she has violated any conscientious scruples or willingly 
affirmed what is untrue ; but it would be exceedingly difficult not to be- 
lieve that she was blinded by prejudice, or prompted by motives of love 
and thereby misled in her conclusions ; it would be difficult to believe that 
he, who was a hater and enemy of mankind, could possibly be an affee- 
tionate and dutiful son-in-law or a genial companion at home. How could 
the companion of the dissolute contribute to the enjoyment of the virtu- 
ous? How could he whose morals were corrupted by the excessive in- 
dulgence of passion render cheerful the inmates of his home ? How 
could that impious voice which was so often heard in the midnight revery, 
melt into gentle accents by a mere change of scene? Poe seems to have 
always been devoid of every generous feeling, averse to every sentiment 
of friendship, and a decided hater of mankind — how then could he have 
been otherwise than miserable, and how could his misery have rendered 
others happy? He wrongfully suspected the faithfulness or disinterested- 
ness of those, whose friendship he might have claimed — few though they 
were indeed — yet who would have gladly beguiled his weary hours and 
boldly stood by him in hours of the darkest trial; and utterly disregard- 
ing the sincerest professions of friendship, in a defiant manner he cast 
them off from that bosom which so much needed s3 T inpathy and encour- 
agement. He mistrusted the kindest acts of would-be benefactors as the 
promptings of a fiendish spirit, and turned with contempt and scorn from 
the world, whose esteem he so little deserved, yet had partially obtained. 
Like Ishmael, his hand was against every man ; but unlike the son of the 
old patriarch, in that there were a few who were every ready to render 
him assistance and to do him good. 

As I have already said, his writings are the index of his character; he 
seems never to have enjoyed a moment of pleasure or to have experienced 
a thrill of delight; misery was his by nature and he seems to have cher- 
ished it. He had that peculiar combination of the nervous and billious 
temperament, which is usually the indication of superior talents, but also 
of an unhappy disposition and melancholy mind ; and instead of always 
striving against depression of spirits which was natural with him, instead 
of looking with hope to the future, he yielded to despondency and con- 
sequently always seemed very sad and melancholy. But this sad charac- 
teristic of his may, I think, with at least some plausibility, be ascribed to 
his inordinate love of self and disregard for others. In solitude, he fed 
upon his own sad thoughts; imagined himself deserted by hope and 
friends, and doomed to spend a life of misery and an eternity of woe ; 
too much self-esteem led him to believe himself neglected or slighted, 
when men did not honor him above all others ; this sad feeling made him 
infer, but without reason, that friendship is false and that ; like the spider 

232 The Life and Writings of Edgar A. Poe. [November 

which asks the fly into its parlor, it invites its votaries to pleasure but to 
destroy; and from this, he deduced the painful conclusion that a sorrow- 
ful destiny awaited him. He seldom indulged the hearty laugh, the mer- 
ry voice or the benignant smile ;. but, like the miser whose gold employs 
his every thought and is his only care, he w.-usted his life in brooding over 
imaginary evils as though they were a treasure. From solitude, he carried 
his gloomy fancies into society, and accordingly he always seemed pressed 
down by some heavy calamity, or deploring the loss of some dear treasure-. 
Of course, there was no reality in the gloomy phantoms of his mind, but 
imagination had pictured them so vividly that they could not have been 
worse, so far as he is concerned, even if they had been real. This lamen- 
table feature of his character is correctly portrayed in almost all his ficti- 
tious productions and in all of them is clearly discernible even to the most 
inattentive reader; and the wild and strange phantoms of his distempered 
imagination, he had the power to communicate to others by such vividness 
of description and minuteness of detail, as to make them appear as so 
many living beings moving in life before us. And this wayward child of 
genius, instead of exerting his powerful intellect to benefit or improve 
society, found tin 1 most genial employment for his pen in painting images 
of horror and woe. Judging from his writings, there can be no. doubt 
that superstition was a part of his character, and it is clearly evident that 
it exerted an evil influence over him. Though he was well educated and 
informed, his education seems not to have driven out this baneful malady 
with which his mind was infected. That spirit of perverseness, too, which 
he professed to believe, and even affirmed, was inherent in humanity, 
seems to have been a particular characteristic of his own disposition ; and 
since he possessed this mean trait of character in such a. high degree, it is 
not at all strange that he should have believed it to exist in, others. To 
decide that this despicable spirit does not pervade (rod's creatures, we 
have only to appeal to our own consciences to obtain an answer in the 
negative. It would be almost impossible for envy not to find a place in 
the heart of a man possessed of all the vices which have been mentioned ; 
and accordingly we find that his envy of those more favored by fortune 
than himself sometimes amounted even to burning rage, and was not un- 
frequently vented in bitter satire, under the name of criticism! 

It wouid be both unjust and improper to dismiss the subject of this 
essay, without noticing his writings which are but a history of his own 
life. His brief, yet successful literary career has entitled him to high dis- 
tinction in three distinct branches of literature. The beauty of his poeti- 
cal compositions and the wonderful imagery of his fictitious productions 
have united in establishing for him the lasting reputation of being a power- 
ful writer, while the b-tiu^ sarci^ui of hi* umuerous eriUcisJaifllma cwifinaed 

1859.] The Life and Writings of Edgar A. Poe. 233 

the opinion that he was a misguided genius. A peculiar characteristic 
of all his writings is, that they tell of something awful or terrible, and 
his power was confined almost entirely to descriptions of this kind. Sick- 
ness, grief, agony, death and the grave constitute all his subjects ; so that 
after reading one of his compositions, we experience a feeling of sadness 
or horror. It matters not what one we read, the impression made upon 
us is always decidedly painful. He possessed a wonderful power of analy- 
sis, which is conspicuous in all his writings and which has contributed 
much to establishing the reputation which he enjoys. Not content to 
discourse upon the things which pertain to out present life, or to speak of 
our own little earth and its inhabitants, he even descended into the grave 
and attempted to explore its mysteries; arose above the earth, journeyed 
to the moon and gave an accurate description of the shape and character 
of the people who dwell there ; and measured the intermediate space with 
the caution and skill of a philosopher. When reading the unparalleled 
adventure of Hans Pfall, we feel not as one who is listening to some idle 
description of a journey to the moon, or even as one who is standing by 
as a mere spectator of the madman who would attempt such a thing, but 
we seem to forget our own position and very limited powers, and to be 
really seated in a aerial car, wafted by the wings of the wind far, far above 
the earth, where we become giddy and gasp for breath as we ascend so 
high; where without fear we can see the black storm clouds gather and 
the lightnings play harmlessly at our feet and hear the distant roar of 
thunder far beneath us. And although from our knowledge of well- 
known facts, we are conscious that a passage to the moon from our own 
little earth can never, by any human power, be accomplished; yet, almost 
without considering this fact, we are led by Poe's artistic reasoning and 
subtle conclusions to imagine ourselves really there, or seriously to in-' 
dulge for a while at least, the thought of a possibility and even probabili- 
ty of such a journey. On the perusal of the "Pit and the Pendulum," 
a sensation of unutterable horror comes over us, and the dread sentence 
of death seems pronounced by the fiendish judges of the Inquisition 
against us; we seem to be groping in the dense darkness of that dismal 
dungeon which he describes, and to be shut out by its gloomy walls from 
light, hope and life forever. "The Pendulum" of Time seems to be 
making its slow but sure vibrations above our heads, bringing dea'th in its 
descent; and oh! how glad are our souls when that "low murmuring of 
human voices" is heard. Such is his power of description — unequalled — 
unrivalled, in its kind, by any author of any age. His writings, however, 
have no moral, and if they depended for success upon lessons of morality 
or wisdom inculcated by them, they would have long since fallen from 
their high position ; like the leaves of Autumn which fall to decay. They 

234 The Life and Writings of Edgar A. Poe. [November 

air© readable and valuable only on acconnt of the intense interest which 

they excite, and indeed they make no pretentions to anything higher. It 

may be said that they inculcate a lesson against intemperance and vice, to 

which he sadly fell a victim; but this important lesson can be, and should 

be, taught in an entirely different way. Should we expect to make one a 

refined and elegant scholar by throwing him entirely into the company of 

the illiterate ? Or, should we hope to render a person scrupulously virtuous 

by frequently introducing him into scenes of debauchery and vice, with 

the vain hope that disgust for sin will make him shun its eonsequence«5 ? 

By no means; for 

" Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, 
As, to be dreaded, needs but to be seen ; 
But seen too oft, familiar with her face, 
We first endure, then pity, then embrace. 

Poe has aTsowritten many poetical composition* w^Kfeh alone would at 
once establish aif^rmthor's claim to genius; but there is especially one 
which I must not fail to notice. The Raven, the master stroke of his pen, 
has, I imagine, done more to gain the reputation which he enjoys than all 
the rest of his poetry, fiction and criticism combined. And, indeed, it 
seems to me to be alone sufficient to establish an enviable reputation for 
any one ; well might he be proud of it, for it is worthy of the most gifted 
pen. Both originality of thought and of metre are remarkable in this 
poem ; but misery and awe, as in almost all the rest of his various pro- 
ductions, are its most striking characteristics. Yet it forces itself upon 
the mind with such a power that if once read it can never be forgotten. 
The time, the place, the circumstances, are all calculated to inspire the 
reader with an indescribable feeling of secret fear, of painful astonishment 
and of sorrow. Let him who doubts the truth of this remark, read the 
poem in a room all alone at the still hour of a December midnight when 
the last embers are burning upon bis hearth; and if he does not, on fin- 
ishing the perusal of it, feel a strong inclination to rush out into com- 
pany, or to utter a shriek of horror, or does not in reality cast a scrutini- 
zing glance towards his door, then surely that man cannot understand or 
appreciate the poem. Poe has given us the philosophy of the composition 
of this poem ; how he conceived the idea of writing it ; how that idea 
was carried into execution ; how he mathematically adjusted all the parts; 
and lastly, how he completed it. If we could give credit to Poe's asser- 
tions in this instance, I think it would be advisable for all of us to set 
about writing some more " Ravens," especially if they will succeed as well, 
as that of Edgar A. Poe. 

When we take into consideration the wonderful talents of this wicked 
man, we cannot but regret that his life was not spent in a nobler cause. 

1859.] The Life and Writings of Edgar A. Poe. 235 

But Poe, with all his faults, with all the antipathy which he early con- 
tracted for the human race, with all his intemperate habits and sullenness 
of temper, is entitled to some sympathy from mankind — yes, he deserves 
some sympathy. Bereaved in early life of both parents, he had no fath- 
er's hand to guide his wandering steps and plaee him in the path of duty ; 
no mother to reprove him with gentle words, to ask eontiuual blessings 
from heaven upon his head, to teach him in childhood to bend his knee 
and lift his heart in prayer to Grod. And to this cause, I think, we may 
justly attribute all the vices of his after life. Ahi who can tell how many 
orphans are left alone to battle with the world, without a kind adviser or 
a faithful corrector ? Who can tell how many are the crimes committed, 
the follies indulged, and the bad habits contracted by those whose youth 
has been unguided by a father's hand and unprotected by a mother's 
prayer 1 Would Poe have ever been guilty of dishonesty or falsehood, 
if he had been taught the meanness of the crime in youth ? Would he 
ever have engaged in those drunken debauches which sullied his disposi- 
tion, which imprinted upon his brow the scowl of misery, and which em- 
bittered his whole future life, if a mother's kind instructions had made 
him believe that a deadly serpent lurked within the sparkling bowl ? But 
alas ! 'tis useless to lament his vices — 'tis not meet to weep over the past 
which can never return. He lived a misanthrope, he died friendless and 
forsaken ; he nursed the serpent in the cup, he died a victim to its fangs ; 
he forgot his Grod, he died without a hope of heaven. And when the 
Angel of Death hovered around his dying bed and beckoned him away, 
no friend was there to soothe his thorny pillow, no gentle voice to gladden 
his last fleeting moments, no hand to alleviate the agonies of his anguish- 
ed spirit, no prayer to avert the wrath of an angry God. 

236 To Mabel [November 


Far in the forest's sombre shade, 

The lone rock bears the clambering vine, 
Beneath whose drooped and veiling leaves 

I clasped thee first and called thee mine ; 
And there, amid the unpeopled woods, 

When winds sing low through every tree, 
I oft beside that rock recall 

That blissful hour and think of thee. 

I think of thee, and o'er my soul 
Love's fiery-crested waters roll, 
Like billows of the sea ; 
Then wake the wild passions of my heart, 

Like stormy winds among the trees, 
"When from their roots the stout oaks start, 
And fall, and crash, while sweeps the breeze 
Proudly, wild and free. 
Thus a wild storm my bosom feels, 

Now hope, now fear, now bliss now pain, 
Then choking sense of pleasure steals 
Through every throbbing, burning vein, 
When e'er I think of thee. 

And something whispers hope to me, 
And tells me that I'm dear to thee, 
That, when upon my dreamy couch, 
I feel thy lip's soft, thrilling touch, 
Like sips of lucious rosy wine, 
That I, in dreams, am still by thine. 

Dost love me ? Shall thy red lip cling 

In joy to mine as once it clung, 
And shall my heart's sad chords again 

To love's sweet melodies be strung ? 
Oh ! tell me that the gushing love 

Of thy great soul is all for me ; 
That all thy heart's wild throbs are mine, 

Mine now, and mine eternally. 

1859.] Liberty and Christianity. 237 



Not on the beauties of nature only do we find " passing away" inscribed. 
But in all human institutions we see liability to change and decay. No 
nation now vigorous can date further back than the dark ages. England 
can scarcely be considered a nationality until the time when William the 
Conqueror came. She was then a nation without any government but the 
will of her King, until the middle of the seventeenth century, when the 
first rays of Liberty shot athwart the sky and rested on Albion. France 
dates her history as far back as eight hundred and forty three. But 
Hugh Capet did not begin his reign until the latter part of the tenth cen- 
tury. The glory of the House of Hapsburg — that mighty race which has 
maintained its position among the tyrants of earth so long — commenced its 
rule in the twelfth centtfry ; and as for that despotism which sways the 
sceptre over millions of the most abject and degraded inhabitants of Eu- 
rope, the House of Austria, it did not possess even a Duchy so soon. In 
this power we have an instance how oppressions can bind in ignorance 
and vile submission a nation of millions, who, if free and educated, would 
be distinguished for true moral worth and intellectual vigor. Hungary is 
now the same she was in the times when so many thousands of the savage 
Crusaders from the North perished on her plains. There Feudalism, in 
its most direful forms, still holds sway over the inhabitants. That land of 
romance, the Tyrol, is sunk as deep in ignorance and superstition as when 
Peter the Hermit preached the Crusades against the infidels to her proud 
lords. But Austria still sleeps on, while the nations around are march- 
ing on with rapid strides toward some immortal destiny. The Prussian 
monarchy and Prussian power is but the growth of yesterday. History 
concerning Russia as a nation is considered as authentic only as far back 
as eight hundred and eighty. In studying the history of this nation, 
what a strange anomaly is presented. The first idea we get of Russian 
government is the downfall of a republic, and the elevation of the most 
powerful despotism in the world upon its ruins. The first sound we hear 
of Russia's voice is the proud boast of the republic, " Who dare attack God 
and the great Novgorad." But that boast was premature, and the next 
sound that comes down from the north is the growl of the Great Bear, 
when he sees the Christian armies of the powerful Sweeds threatening his 
dominions. In tracing the history of those nations on whose ruins these 
were founded, one is naturally led to enquire for th« causes which have 

238- Liberty and Christianity. [November 

led to their downfall. We at this age and in this country, untrammelled 
by prejudice and with more light than has ever illumined tie mind of man 
in any former age, are apt to conclude that the causes of their rapid dete- 
rioration and their present condition, are to be found in some of those 
principles or qualities in which we differ from them. Nor is this conclu- 
sion unphilosophical. Take, then, those nations of antiquity which stand 
out on the page of history marked by what is most brilliant and most pow- 
erful. We find them ruled by men of genius — protected by powerful and 
efficient armies — and abounding in wealth and all that wealth can bestow. 
But one essential element of true greatness is wanting. And in nothing 
perhaps is resemblance more striking than in the choice of leaders. We find 
nowhere any development of the principles of true religion. Let us look 
but for a moment at the history of Greece. The ancestors of those stern 
warriors who drove back the mighty Persian from the shores of Europe — 
of those inspired poets whoso dulcet verse still falls in enchanting strains 
upon our ears — of those sublime artists who could deceive the very birds 
of air, or carve the perfect man from stone. The ancestors of these once 
roamed ignorant and degraded over the now classic ground, subsisting on 
roots and acorns. In time they grew wiser. A Solon and a Lycurgus 
came and gave them laws ; and soon a fair republic sprang into being. 
That beauteous machinery worked smoothlj^Jfor a while, but that force 
which alone would give it a perpetual motion, Religion, was wanting, and 
almost before the people could appreciate the beauties of their develope- 
ment, it was crushed of itself. Peacher says, that " Grecian liberty was 
but partial and capricious and of short duration, rendered illustrious rath- 
er by the darkness which preceded and followed, than by the benign in- 
fluence of its own beams." Greece is still unchristian and unreclaimed. 
Grim despotism stalks abroad over her hills. Moslem influence still spreads 
like a black pall over the land, hiding the beauties which linger in her 
vales. Slavish chains still clank on the arms of her sons. 

Rome, too, has passed through changes from the most ignorant and rude 
state of society to the most refined and enlightened. There was a time 
when foul birds of prey gave her a king — when an eagle sent her a deliv- 
erer — when the cackling of geese saved her. She advanced in the arts 
and sciences, and when Brutus expelled her proud king from the throne, 
the sun of Liberty burst upon the eternal city. Under its cheering beams 
success attended all her enterprises, but Christianity was wanting and 
from the time that Rome proclaimed herself proud Empress of the world, 
that sun began to wane. It soon set in darkness and gloom. That love- 
ly land has seemed to rest under a curse ever since. Calamities never 
come alone. Soon as Rome said "I am the world," literature and the arts 
began to decline. Fair Science found a grave beneath her former throne. 

1859.] Liherti/ and Cltristiamfi/. 280 

civil wars and barbarian invasions devastated tbe city. Sylla and Marias 
made their country desolate by stirring up that most dreadful of all horrors, 
a servile war. Nero, that horrid demon in human form, burned his capi- 
tol and stood in his window and gazed on the horrid scene with grim and 
savage delight. Cicero and Caesar were murdered. Brutus and Cato self- 
immolated. The great naturalist, Pliny, was suffocated by the sulphurous 
fumes of Vesuvius, and two fair cities, Herculanium and Pompei, buried 
beneath the burning lava. Even a religion under the name of Christianity 
has been a powerful instrument, in the hands of the wicked and crafty, 
to sink the land into still deeper servitude and woe. For Italy now groans 
beneath the sceptre of the Pope and shrinks in terror from the thunders 
of the Vatican. ! Italy, fair Italy ! had you received into your heart the 
teachings of that fearless apostle of Jesus, who came to you, what blessings 
instead of curses would have flown from your lovely clime. The sweet 
chantings which are now but a mockery to Him in whose praise they are 
uttered, would now be received on wings of prayer, and angels would lis- 
ten to them with joy. France and England emerged from the darkness 
of Feudalism. England now boasts of the most enlightened government 
and freest constitution on the globe. Christianity sustained her through 
the revolution, and as yet supports her. But alas ! poor France, in her 
religion was but superstition, and Liberty was drowned in the blood of 
her votaries. Men with human feelings could not contemplate the bloody 
deeds of Robespiere, and Marat, so they laid aside their feelings and 
plunged into the darkness of skepticism. Even in the public convention, 
Marat called for two hundred and seventy thousand heads, and another, 
according to one, called for five hundred children, under fourteen years of 
age. And most of these escaped death by the bullet on account of their 
size, only to be mangled by bayonets, while they clung, screaming, to the 
knees of the soldiers. The genius of Napoleon, for a time brought order 
from the tumult, but at his fall France was again drenched in blood. 
Paris is all anarchy and confusion, and can do nothing but wait the next 
revolution. Unhappy France has proved to the world that reason can- 
not retain Liberty without Christianity. It is strange that not only in- 
dividuals, but even nations, will resist reformation. This spirit of op- 
position to everything new has been carried so far, that reformation and 
innovation have become almost synoymous. Dr. Beech is probably the 
only man who has accounted for it. He says, " where there is blindness 
and consequently no reception of the truth, the minds of such may be 
compared to light thrown upon owls. It is sure to set them screeching." 
We have noticed the rise, progress, and decay of most of the principal 
governments that have appeared upon the earth, except one, and that is 
our own ; the last that has been formed, which holds up to the world the 

240 Black Mountain of North Carolina. [November 

purest model that ever met its gaze. It rests upon the firm basis of wis- 
dom, equal rights, and Christianity. Can it stand the test of time and 
change ? The answer is yet to be given. If that answer be yes, then a 
world of slaves may look up and worship the glorious sun that now shines 
on our shores, that will soon illumine the world, and will send such a light 
round the thrones of despotism that the people seeing their pollution and 
inefficiency will tear them down, and in their stead erect temples to the 
Goddess of Liberty. Then soon ours will be a free world ; then Liberty 
and Christianity will go hand in hand, and be victorious together. But 
if that answer be no, then may we truly say, "Liberty is but a dream." 
Then despots may go to forging chains to bind down their subjects into 
still deeper degradation ; then was the blood of our fathers shed in vain, 
and no more need the praise of Liberty be chanted ; then never will un- 
happy Poland be cheered by voices of freemen coming to her rescue, and 
the sad tale of Poland's wrongs will never be canceled by the sweet tale 
of Poland's restoration. If it be no, then that Hungarian wail which lately 
struck our ears so painfully, was but the dying groan of freedom ; and the 
sounds wafted by winds which sweep Siberia's snows, but the funeral dirges 
chanted over her grave. 


Messrs. Editors : — A recent visit to the Black Mountain enables me 
to furnish you with a few notes which may be interesting to your readers. 
It is now generally conceded that Mitchell's Peak, (as it should be right- 
fully called,) is the highest point of land east of the Mississippi. This 
result has been obtained by three independent and reliable calculations. 
The late Dr. Mitchell made it, by his first corrected measurement, 6708 
feet, Prof. Gyot, of Princeton, 6701 feet (both barometrical); and Major 
Turner, Chief Engineer of the Western Extension, by a series qf levels, 
6711 feet. This close approximation is remarkable, and corroborates the 
pains-taking accuracy of the whole. To the untiring labors of Dr. Mitch- 
ell are we indebted for the earliest information, first published, I believe, in 
1835, relative to the high mountains of North Carolina. Several of these, 
it is now ascertained, surpass in elevation the far-famed White Mountains 
of New Hampshire. An interest was then excited on this subject which 
has not ceased to be felt by the intelligent and scientific community to the 
present time. During the last summer Prof. Gyot has been engaged in 
taking the altitude of the Smoky Mountain, and will, no doubt ; soon make 

1859.] Black Mountain of North Carolina. 241 

known the result of his labors. It may be here stated that I was informed 
by Mr. Stepp, now residing at the foot of the mountain, that in clearing 
off the top, or highest peak, several years ago, to give a clear and unob- 
structed vision, he found the letter M distinctly carved on one of the Bal- 
sam Firs. The carving had the appearance of having been executed at least 
20 years previous, carrying us back to a period agreeing with the first visit 
of Dr. Mitchell and his guides to this mountain. - • 

The Black Mountain may now be easily approached by leaving the 
Swannanoa road about 12 miles from Asheville, and travelling up the tor- 
turous meanderings of the Upper Swannanoa. By pursuing the " Moun- 
tain Road" about eight miles further, the visitor arrives at the residence 
of Mr. Stepp, (now owned by Judge Bailey,) the terminus of carriage 
travel. The Swannanoa is a wild, animated stream, with waters clear as 
crystal — sometimes tranquil, but generally dashing, frolicsome, and be- 
coming even tumultuous as we approach its ambitious and elevated sources. 
Parties here procure saddles, and make all necessary preparations for stay- 
ing over the night, if they wish to see the " glorious king of day, rejoic- 
ing in the east," long before chanticleer, in the world below, crows for early 
dawn. After pursuing a winding course about four miles, the " Moun- 
tain House" is reached with an elevation of 5,246 feet. Here the visitor 
has the first grand view of the mountains, and becomes entranced with 
the rolling ocean of glory spread out before him. The soil is generally 
rich, and every observer is struck with the large size of the trees near the 
base of the mountain, particularly of the Black Locust, Linden, Sugar 
Maple, Umbrella Magnolia, Spruce Pine, {Pinus Canadensis) &c, all ap- 
parently trying to assume huge proportions and " hold high heads," flour- 
ishing, as they do, beneath the shadows of the lofty Black. 

In making the ascent thus far, the red flowered Chelone ( C. lyont) was 
frequently seen, as elsewhere in the mountain vallies ; also, a beautiful 
Monarda (M. didymd) Diphyllia, in fruit {D. cyneosa) a large club moss, 
(Lycopadium rupestre) and several others more common. Just above the 
" Mountain House" the Balsam Fir {Pinus Balsamifera) and Black 
Spruce {Pinus Nigra) become the predominant growth, and impart a dark, 
sombre hue to the mountain — hence its name. 

By pursuing the same winding course, the visitor soon arrives at the 
first lofty peak (6,587 feet). A rude observatory, 10 or 12 feet high, has 
been erected on its summit, from the top of which the grand, panoramic 
display of mountains that bursts upon the enraptured vision is beyond de- 
scription. To be fully appreciated in all its inherent grandeur, it must be 
seen. The mind becomes lost in silent contemplation as it surveys the 
mighty and sublime spectacle. It is good to be here, and commune, for 
a time, with Nature. 


242 Black Mountain of North Carolina. [November 

A little further on, in a slight depression of the mountain, and near the 
pathway, is a fine spring in which the mercury stands at 42°, being one 
of the elevated fountain-heads of Toe river. About one hour's travel 
from this point brings the visitor to Mitchell's Peak, the highest of this 
mountain range, and estimated, as previously stated, to have an elevation 
of 6,708 feet. Here repose the mortal remains of the late Dr. Mitchell, 
who fell a martyr to science. It is fondly hoped a neat, substantial mon- 
ument will soon occupy the place of the balsam logs now surrounding the 
grave. A short distance from the summit is a rough cabin in which vis- 
itors frequently tarry 'over night, cheerfully submitting to inconveniences, 
to witness a " glorious sunrise." On the brow of the mountain, near at 
hand, is another cold spring in which the mercury indicates 40°. From 
this, water for drinking, and culinary purposes is procured. This is con- 
sidered to be the highest spring, and coldest water east of the Mississippi. 
Near the cabin is a large projecting rock of gneiss, dipping to the horizon 
at an angle of 20 or 25 degrees, beneath which many persons might be 
sheltered from a storm, and quietly sleep during the night, if the mighty 
roofing overhead did not induce unpleasant slumbers. The only animal 
seen in making the ascent, was the active little ground squirrel, called 
" mountain boomer," running up a reclining limb, whilst one or more of 
its fellows were chattering in musical invitations on the neighboring trees. 
On and around the summit snow-birds were seen in great numbers, gayly 
flitting from bush to bush, and frequently perching upon the golden rod 
(solidago glomeratd), with which the top of the mountain is thiekly cov- 
ered, and plucking out seeds from the partially ripened heads. 

Standing on this lofty peak, a grand amphitheatre of mountains may 
be seen, rising up from five States, in the distant horizon. These are the 
Saluda Mountains, in South Carolina; Cohutty, in Georgia; Cumberland 
and others, in Tennessee; lofty mountains, probably the peaks of Otter, 
in Virginia ; whilst within the Old North State hundreds may be seen, 
including the beautiful Roan, upwards of 6,000 feet high, covered, for 
many miles on its extended top, with the finest pasturage, and delicious 
strawberries during the latter part of July ; the Grandfather, and the sin- 
gular-shaped Table Rock. Potato Top, one of the highest knobs of the 
Black, (6,393 feet,) connects with the Pinnacle of the Blue Ridge, its 
most elevated peak (5,701 feet). From this connecting ridge gush forth, 
on either side, the fountain sources of Toe and Swannanoa rivers. Our 
visit (Sept. 14th) was too late for strawberries, but a few delicious cur- 
rants, fully ripe, were collected (Ribes rotundifoliuni) of greenish-purple 
eolor. In several places the handsome Virgilia ( V. luted) was seen with 
its red berries, pleasantly contrasting with the dark foliage of the Balsam 
Firs. In making our descent, a few small Balsam Firs were pulled up, 

1859.] Present State of Politics in Europe. - 243 

with which we hope to adorn " home, sweet home." In conclusion, per- 
mit me to say to every North Carolinian, to visit the Black Mountain at 
least once in his life-time, and he will be amply repaid for his toil and 
expense, in pictures of sublimity, drawn by the Great Architect of the 
Universe, and portrayed, in unsurpassed beauty and grandeur, on Nature's 
wide domain. C. L. H. 


To an American, separated by a vast ocean from the old world and free 
from the prejudices and passions by which its people are actuated, I think 
there can be no subject more interesting, nor one affording a wider field for 
speculation than the present state of politics in Europe. A few months 
ago the note of war sounded through the land, and France, and Austria, 
and Italy trembled under the tread of soldiers. The hostile armies met, 
the allies on the one side, the slaves of Francis Joseph on the other, and 
the clash at Montebello and the bloody field of Magenta told but too soon 
that the struggle had begun. In this country public expectation had 
reached the highest pitch of excitement. Every new steamer was looked 
for with the intensest anxiety, and I think I do not misrepresent when 
I say that many of our statesmen believed that, ere now, Napoleon would 
have entered Vienna at the head of his victorious legions. But lo ! the 
next news was that a treaty had been concluded — that peace had been 
proclaimed, and "its rainbow tints gave a sure indication that the storm 
had passed away." 

It will be our purpose on this occasion to inquire whether the storm 
has indeed passed away, or whether it has not rather suspended its rage 
for a moment to burst forth again in still more terrible fury — whether the 
nephew of Bonaparte has retired to his palace to rest on his laurels, or 
rather, like the lion, has crouched but to make a more deadly spring — 
whether the stubborn Emperor of the Austrians will be content to observe 
the articles of the treaty and brood in gloom and solitude over his defeat, 
or rather, like a fierce bull-dog, has but withdrawn a little distance to rush 
upon his prey with still madder determination. 

To answer these questions correctly, it is necessary to take a cursory 
glance at the general state of affairs in the five great powers of Europe. 
For thirty years previous to the accession of the present Czar to the 
throne of Russia, Nicholas ruled with a rod of iron that vast empire. 
The chief object of his reign seems to have been to centre in his own per- 
son all the powers of state, and to reduce to still more absolute slavery, if 

244 Present State of Politics in Europe. [November 

possible, the mighty nation over which he was called to preside. How 
perfectly this object was accomplished, the present abject state of the 
Russians but too mournfully attests. At his death, " the tree of despotism 
had reached its fullest growth." His cherished hope, too, seems to have 
been to "sit on the throne of the Constantines and wield the sceptre of 
the Ottoman sovereigns." His successor, Alexander II, has had these 
principles instilled into his very nature, and now, like a sorcerer, stands 
with his poisoned chalice, by the bedside of the "sick man," as Turkey 
has appropriately been termed, ready to administer the fatal draught that 
would destroy him forever, and over his remains erect the standard of the 
Northern Bear. And such would long since have been his fate had not 
jealous physicians guarded him well. 

Prussia exerts an influence scarcely less than that of Eussia in the 
councils of the Great States to preserve the balance of power. She stands 
at the head of the German Confederacy, and her court is the ablest, with 
perhaps one exception, in Europe. Austria has sometimes claimed the 
superiority, but has never been able to establish it. 'Tis true she has a 
greater number of fighting men — 'tis true she rushes headlong into more 
wars; but in an emergency Prussia is always consulted and her decision 
abided. Through her intervention, mainly, the late war was brought to 
its rapid close. 

Austria has greater resources and a larger army than any of the German 
States ; but with Francis Joseph at the helm of government she dwindles 
down to the most insignificant of the Great Powers. All the acts of his 
life, both as a soldier and a diplomatist, have shown him to be not only 
incapable of ruling an empire, but even of self-government. Another 
important feature in his character is obstinacy. His Minister of Foreign 
Affairs is one of the ablest men of the age; yet, if he urges a measure it is 
sure not to be adopted. His mother, a cruel and revengeful woman, is 
said to wield a mighty influence at his court. The various disasters and 
defeats, which his army has recently suffered, are attributable mainly to 
the weakness of the Field Marshal, who, it is well known, was appointed 
to that responsible position, not for any distinguished merit, but for a 
blind devotion to his imperial master. 

England, the once proud " mistress of the seas," has for more than a 
quarter of a century been on the decline ; or regal power has been declin- 
ing and the government merging into a democracy. Her position at the 
present time finds an apt illustration, to use the expression of an Irishman, 
in the man who fell with " one leg on both sides of the fence." The evil 
tendencies of her system must be apparent to every thinking mind. The 
maxim, that '/ no man can serve two masters," holds good in affairs of gov- 
ernment as well as in individual cases. The British cabinet cannot pan? 

1S59.] Present State of Politics in Europe. 245 

der to the prejudices of the people and bow to the will of the Sovereign 
at the same time. The members of Parliament hardly dare to express an 
opinion, much less zealously advocate a principle. But a few months ago 
that body was dissolved because, forsooth, it was rumored that it leaned 
to the Austrian side of the dispute. A new Ministry has consequently 
been placed in power, which is the mere dupe of Napoleon III. 

France is unquestionable the first power in Europe ; not that she has a 
larger navy, or a more numerous army, or greater pecuniary resources, 
but that she has a man at the head of the government. Persons living 
under a democracy can form no adequate conception of the power of 
princes. Napoleon's will is as absolute as that of Russia's Autocrat. At 
his word three hundred thousand armed men spring forth, Pallas-like, 
ready to do his bidding. At his word England trembles, and all Europe 
is breathless with attention. It may not be inappropriate in this connec- 
tion to sketch his character very briefly in an oflicial point of view. The 
magic of his name, it is generally conceded, elevated him to the presiden- 
tial chair of the French Republic. His almost unanimous re-election 
proved the popularity of his administration. And his celebrated " coup 
d'e'tat" struck the world with wonder. Since then he has acted the part 
of a great statesman. Keeping all his maneuvers to himself, he has ad- 
vanced rapidly to the very pinnacle of fame, and is now regarded as 
scarcely inferior to the great Napoleon. But, like him, ambition is his 
god, and in its gratification he is nourishing a viper that will poison him — 
a flame that will consume him. 

Having thus briefly noticed the state of affairs and the influences opera- 
ting in the great powers of Europe, it becomes our province to inquire, 
what, from present appearances, will be the probable course of events for 
some years to comes? Let us, then, in the first place, state the causes 
which led to the late war, and the designs with which the contending 
parties entered into it. It seems that from some flimsy pretext, and in di- 
rect violation of an established treaty, an Austrian army was sent into 
Italy, and devastated with fire and sword her blooming fields and charm- 
ing villages. An appeal was immediately made by the Sardinian King 
to the French Emperor, and was as promptly responded to. War was 
declared and the result is too well known to be dwelt upon here. A 
treaty has been signed; but the clouds of battle are still piled high in the 
western horizon, and frown threateningly upon the peace of Europe. The 
lightnings have not yet ceased to play, and the low mutterings of the 
thunder tell that the storm is not yet over. Napoleon, since the Crimean 
war, has been most industriously engaged in strengthening his army, and 
now his is the best disciplined, if not the most efficient, the world has seen 
since the days of Bonaparte. What his intentions are no one can even 

246 Present State of Politics in Europe. [November 

conjecture. It is, however, sufficiently evident that he became a party in 
the late contest, not from any love of liberty, nor from any sympathy with 
down-trodden and oppressed Italy; but merely to wrest her from the grasp 
of an ambitious tyrant, whose power he feared. But none can believe 
that he will now disband his troops and permit his subjects to enjoy the 
rich blessings of peace. He has too much of his great uncle's spirit for 
this. The campaign he has just finished, is but the vestibule of his mili- 
tary career. Like the beast of prey, when he has once tasted blood, 
the last drop of his devoted victim must satiate his thirst. 

It has been rumored that an alliance, offensive and defensive, with Al- 
exander is on foot. If this be consummated, it will be difficult indeed to 
predict the fate of Europe. The Czar would probably sieze Constantino- 
ple, and thus carry out his father's dying injunction — " not to relax one 
muscle till he should sit on the throne of the Constantines." And would 
not Napoleon's ambition lead him to attempt the sovereignty of the rest 
of this great division ? But even granting that he intends to devote the 
remainder of his reign to the cultivation of the arts of peace and the ad- 
vancement of the intellectual and moral condition of his empire, will he 
be permitted to do so ? Will Austria, with her stubborn King, give up 
her long cherished desire of swaying the sceptre of the Caesars with so 
small a sacrifice? No; but like the wounded panther, goaded to despera- 
tion by the assaults of her adversary, she will seek every opportunity for 
revenge. Prussia, ever wary, when necessity demands it, will join her 
old ally. England, in obedience to an established custom, will volunteer 
on the weaker side, and thus endeavor to preserve the balance of power 

Such, then, being the state of politics across the acean, is it not, indeed, 
a subject of more than ordinary interest to an American ? What the ul- 
timate result will be none can tell ; but if we are to judge the future by 
the past, such a state of anarchy will follow as has not darkened the world 
for more than a thousand years. Black, however, as the picture must 
iseem, may not an ardent lover of Liberty indulge the hope that — 

" Kingly glare 
Will lose its power to dazzle ; its authority 
Will silently pass by ; the gorgeous throne 
Shall stand unnoticed in the regal hall 
Fast falling to decay." 

And is there not some ground for believing that Europe's long oppressed 
and enslaved millions, "may know Liberty as she breathed and fought on 
the plains of Maranthon; and as she raised her divine countenance from 
the wreck of the dark ages and brightened in the English revolution?" 

1859.] Editors' Table. 247 


" Ambition is the germ 
From -which all growth of nobleness proceeds." 

We are not disposed to consider it a crime 

-To win the wreath of fame, 

And write on memory's scroll a deathless name." 

We are persuaded that the good and great in every age of the world hare not 
thought it dishonorable to leave behind them " footprints on the sands of 
time." On the contrary, they have always felt something of supreme delight, 
some sweet consolation in knowing, that, when the storms of invective and 
malediction, which they met with from those who envied them in their great- 
ness, shall have died away, their names and their glory will still survive, ex- 
empt from the ravages of time, and their lives be pointed to as illustrious exam- 
ples and as beacon lights to guide those who desire to be reckoned among the 
benefactors of their race. We know full well that in making this declaration 
we shall incur the criticism and the censure of certain casuistical metaphysi- 
cians who are not willing to allow others to exercise a confidence in the judg- 
ment, but presumptuously claim it as a sacred right of theirs ; yet, we trust 
we shall be able to convince an unbiased mind that it is desirable and honor- 
able to be — 

"One of the few, th' immortal names 
That were not born to die;" 

that ambition is the germ of greatness, whether we view it in its relations to 
practical life, or logically discuss the import of the term. We are not ignorant 
of the fact, that, from the very beginning of our education till the present pe- 
riod of our lives, both in receiving instruction from others and in acquiring 
knowledge from our own reading, we have been incessantly cautioned in re- 
gard to ambition. We have been taught to remember that " vaulting ambi- 
tion overleaps itself," to remember the millions that have frequently died to 
make one man great ; and, indeed, its worst features have been presented to 
our view in all the vividness language can convey. And it is far from our 
purpose to complain of this admonition, when it is confined to the young and 
the wayward. We should certainly entertain none other than feelings of 
thankfulness and gratitude, that, at a time when impetuous youth knows no 
bounds, and imagination would fain lift us into her chariot and bear us away 
to " some happier island," we were so fortunate as to find those whose expe- 
rience justified them in asserting a eontrol over our aims and desires. Yet, 
we too would appeal to the record of the past, to the lives of the great the 
world over, and we would thence conclude that wherever the happiness of 
man is considered one of the principal objects of life, wherever the kindly 

248 Editor V Table. [November 

influences of love and sympathy have had a place in the hearts of the people, 
there also has been exhibited, in all its force, the efficacy of ambition in stimu- 
lating to deeds of disinterested patriotism and self-sacrificing devotion, in firing 
the mind with the zeal and energy requisite for success in every laudable 

The word, ambition, had its origin in the practice of Roman candidates for 
office, who went about the city to solicit votes. To suppose for a moment that 
the majority of such candidates were actuated by impure motives, would cer- 
tainly be a gratuitous presumption, as we have the most ample testimony 
against it. At the time the Latin language was beginning to stand forth in 
its purity, when it was beginning to acquire something of those giant propor- 
tions and that elegance of diction which have won the admiration of the learn- 
ed in every succeeding nation, those intrigues for office which hastened the 
decay of the mighty empire had not made their appearance. The schemes of 
designing demagogues were altogether unknown, and an honest simplicity 
and mutual confidence everywhere existed between the people and the officers 
of their choice. And the experience of every infant republic teaches the same 
important lesson. So long as the great body of the citizens are conscious of 
the necessity of government, and have an adequate conception-of the real du- 
ties and obligations of their officers, no danger to their rights and liberties can 
arise from the artful efforts of candidates to deceive the people that, they may 
carry out their own private plans. Instead, therefore, of admitting the com- 
monly received meaning of the term, we maintain, justly we think, that it is 
intended to express a desire to secure that degree of excellence or superiority 
which, at the hands of an impartial umpire, is entitled to preferment or honor. 
It may, perhaps, be contended on the other hand, that it is not the province 
of greatness to solicit posts of distinction. Yet, we are able to point to nu- 
merous instances in which it has been patriotic, as well as important and bene- 
ficial in an eminent degree, that men have been ambitious to obtain positions 
from which they were able to check the encroachments of the vicious and ag- 
gressive ; and for which their own good sense, and the will of the people, if it 
could have been expressed, declared them the men of the times. But this is 
manifestly the effect of a cause, and " a cause adequate to the effect." While 
toiling on in the noble effort to reach that lofty summit where honors are 
to be battled for and laurels won ; while mounting to that exalted state of 
intellectual power which knows no failure, there may be some resemblance, 
some faint appearance of a desire to wear the badges of distinction. The 
plaudits of admiring friends and the tongue of envy then begin their work of 
praise and censure, as that amount of talent and ability is acquired which 
commonly receives the favors and the honors of office. That the man of a 
cultivated mind should, at this point, accept from the hands of others the 
rewards of greatness when freely offered, or when there is a deep conviction 
of the necessity, is the immediate result of his superior wisdom, of his far- ' 
reaching sagacity, and the responsibility Avhich belongs to those who are fitted 
by nature to guide and control the destinies of nations. 

From the ill-directed course of the ambition of a few, whose names are 
scattered through the volumes of history at so great intervals that we cannot 

1859.] Editors' Table. 249 

fail to consider them as exceptions to the rule, the term has fallen into disre- 
pute, especially with the teachers of ethics, until many. are seriously doubting 
whether there will ever be seen again men of the enterprise and renown, of 
such sterling worth as the former times afforded. It has, at least, occurred to 
every thinking man, that ambition has ever been the great motive to action, 
and that without it we should accomplish very little of permanent value. 
Where it ceases to have its due influence, there is a want of energy and emu- 
lation, and a total indifference to progress in all the objects of life. But when 
its importance is felt and acknowledged by all, there is a marked difference in 
the degree of advancement and refinement. Difficulties which, in the former 
state of affairs, would be made an excuse for all failures and want of appli- 
cation, are surmounted without a murmur of complaint. The more numerous 
the intervening obstacles, the stronger is the desire to achieve success, since 
the very process of overcoming these furaishes the proud consciousness of 
knowing that the glory has been gained with the advantages on the side of 
the opponent. Men of a laudable ambition have ever been the pioneers of 
civilization. They are the first to make the discoveries and inventions that 
the progress of society demands, and they stand as faithful sentinels to guard 
the rights of their countrymen. If they fall on the field of battle, they sleep 
in the honored soldier's grave with the war-cloak around them. In the coun- 
cils of the government they are the defenders of time-honored principles, and 
their names and their examples are invaluable to the thousands that are striv- 
ing to deserve positions of equal usefulness and honor. And as we examine 
the history of our own young and far-reaching empire, and see that the bright- 
est stars in her brilliant constellation have been placed there by the principle 
of action unde 1 ' consideration, we must conclude it should be fostered and 
kept alive in our midst, by studying the history of those whom the world has 
delighted to honor. Kather than extinguish the fires of a generous ambition, 
we should lend a helping hand and let it plume its wings for a loftier flight. 
We should remove every obstacle to genius, let it soar beyond the clouds and 
light its lamp by some heavenly flame. And we need not be at a loss to find 
appropriate illustrations. Wherever a few of those whose minds were illu- 
mined by the light of nature have taken a stand against error and oppression, 
in the cause of education and reform and in defence of their country, there 
also has existed the happy influence of ambition ; animating, comforting and 
cheering — by the midnight lamp of every lover of learning — by the lonely 
bivouac of the patriot Jackson — in the silent tent of the immortal Washington — 
in the bosom of every man whose heart throbs with delight at the prospect of 
living to benefit his race, or from knowing that " 'tis sweet to die for one'a 
country." To these, and such as these, reason points out the proper course to 
be pursued ; and the desire of fulfilling the high purposes of their creation, the 
firm conviction of duty — in a word, ambition prompts them to action, and leads 
them to performances that are to be gratefully remembered, to live in story 
and in song, when the precepts of the timid and pharisaical shall have faded 
from the memory of man. 

250 Editors' Table. [November 

Jg^-We have received the following article from a lady friend, which we 
very cheerfully insert, with the hope that it may be noticed by those of our 
readers, if such there be, whose propensities to " borrowing" are so predomi- 
nant as to prevent the due exercise of the faculty of "returning." When any 
one thus appropriates books that belong to others, we are inclined to think 
that he bears evident marks of wanting in the power of retention, so far as 
his mind is concerned, and to such we recommend the study of the fourth part 
of Abercrombie's Intellectual Philosophy, provided he possess the "ability to 
understand the language" or " to appreciate the thoughts" : 

"The Wicked Borroweth and Returneth not Again." — "An umbrella 
lent, is an umbrella lost." This was once an acknowledged, and not unfre- 
quent truth. The result, generally, it appeared, of carelessness, of indifference, 
of neglect, not of intentional wrong. A man was not regarded as dishonest if 
he retained this species of borrowed property for weeks — for months — for al- 
ways ! The "dear people" were generous, and the verdict "he forgot it." 
No great harm done — cotton articles of the kind were abundant, and one could 
buy a new one, or better still, "return the compliment." 

We were thinking of our improved condition in this particular, and ventur- 
ing to congratulate " one and all," when another system of appropriation oc- 
curred to us, not so general, not so agreeable, and we fear, not so honest ! We 
mean that of book borrowing, and "returning not again." 

How many suffer from like depredation ! An umbrella may be easily sup- 
plied when lost : a book, not always. It is a matter of conjecture how many 
volumes our College Libraries miss annually. We remember to have picked 
up, as far off as New York City, a copy of Essays by Henry Giles— and our 
astonishment to see inscribed on the inside " Philanthropic Society, Chapel 
Hill, N. C." " The property" no longer ! It shall be, though, in the shape of 
a new one, until some one takes a fancy, and carries it out on a journey too. 
No wonder Giles should be admired. Those who have not read his Essays, 
would do well to do so ; that is, if they have any taste, sentiment, or ambition 
about them. Especially, we commend the one on "the cost of a cultivated man," 
and another on " Music." So noble a heart, and so exalted a philanthropy- 
! God bless thee Henry Giles ! 

Who will not sympathize with the author of the following, in his most de- 
plorable condition : 

"How hard that those so kind to lend, 
Should have to loose their books, 
Pursued by anglers, folks that fish 
With literary hooks; 
Who call and take some favorite tome, 
And never read it through, 
And thus complete their set at home, 
By making one at you ! 
I, of my ' Spencer' quite bereft, 
Last winter sore was shaken ; 
Of ' Lamb' I've not a quarter left, 
Nor could I ' save my Bacon !' " 

1,859.] Editors' Table. 251 

Cupid among Collegians. — Nowhere, so much as in college, has this little 
god absolute sway. Nay, frown not, fond fathers ; think of the days when 
you were young. Was he not powerful then ? Had he not been, where would 
have been the necessity for colleges now? Your sons are not injured by be- 
ing in love. Each has his matchless Dulcinia, thinking of whom he rides over 
all obstacles right valiantly. Indeed, all the effects of love in college are for 
good, except one ; and that is, it prompts the students to write more sonnets to 
the moon than we could possibly publish, even if they were all worthy of a 
place in the Magazine ; for, with Claud Halcro, we "question if there ever 
was a true lover in existence, who had not got at least as far as 'Oh Thou' in 
a sonnet in her praise." Though there are some of these passably good, yet, 
the most of them are so poor as to make the gentle Queen of Night hide her 
face behind a cloud for very shame. Some are the outbursts of a heart filled 
with joy at its mistress' smile (very few have any connection with the head,) 
and others the wailings of a "broken hope." We give one specimen of the 
latter kind, which, though it is not addressed to the moon, is "to our purpose 
quite." Ye that listen with sympathy to the sighings of disappointment, at- 
tend to the story of the 


I knew a youth — no matter where — 
Who loved a maid, exceeding fair. 
For two long years, oh ! wondrous strange ! 
His love continued without change. 

Sic vita est ! 

Cherished, caressed 
She proved a viper in his breast. 
(Girls are all false ; yes, e'en the best 
Will flirt, and laugh within her sleeve 
To see her luckless lover grieve.) 
With this digression, 
I hasten to the youth's confession 
Of love, of adoration blind 
And all the feelings of the kind, 

Which show how deeply he was smitten. 
Oh ! Love, thy bonds are ropes of sand ! 
Our lover seeks his lady's hand, 

And gets "a substitute — the mitten." 
Thus, then, he loved, and thus they parted. 
The world would call him broken-hearted, 
And rightly call him so, in sooth. 
With undivided heart the youth 
Had loved this maid exceeding fair ; 
No other one his heart could share. 
But now with broken heart he flees, 

His painful feelings best to smother, 
Until two other girls he sees, 

And gives a piece to one and t'other. 


When kicked, broken-hearted, of all joy bereft, 
Then "save all the fragments, that nothing be left," 
And take this for granted, 'tis true, ; pon my soul, 
A piece of a heart loves as hard as the whole. 

252 Editors' TabU [November 

Local. — Nothing of permanent interest has . occurred since our last issue. 
Our beautiful little village has been more than usually quiet, and the wheels 
of College have been rolling smoothly on in their accustomed course. It has 
been very generally remarked, however, that there is quite a number of boys 
in College this session, or else a few who know very well how to act the boy. 
But as accessions are mostly confined to the lower classes, we cannot believe 
that any others than they 

" can tell 

The magic spell 

That's in the knell 

Of that old bell; 

But the Freshman is the very man, 

If any single student can." 

There have been several disturbances of minor importance, which might 
very well have been dispensed with, as the only result of such proceedings has 
been to draw heavily on our deposit fund, which we should hold for some good 
and wise purpose. Without assuming the position of judges of what may be 
proper in the conduct of those around us, we think it our duty to remind our 
fellow-students that a certain amount of dignity is expected of a gentleman in 
every circle of society, and though he may think to pass unnoticed, there are 
those beneath whose scrutinizing gaze his every act speaks volumes, and who 
will mark him accordingly. It is a high distinction to be a student of the 
University of North Carolina ; but if, with the aid of valuable Libraries, and 
under the instruction of a most able and laborious Faculty, a young man will 
persist in playing the thoughtless boy, will neglect his studies, and forego all 
these advantages, it is proper and just, in the nature of things, that others 
should observe and avoid him. " Time sets all things even," and he will 
b )oner or later perceive the faults and follies of his youth. But it may be too 
late to restore him to the confidence of his follow-citizens — too late for all prac- 
tical purposes. Let him remember, and heed it while he may, that it has 
been truly said, that after " a youth of folly" there comes " an old age of care." 

The number of students at this time is about 400. The University never 
enjoyed a higher state of prosperity, and now offers to the young men of the 
State — of the Sjuth — of the Union — the very best facilities for the acquisition 
of an education. The new buildings, which will be completed by our next 
Commencement, will afford additional comfort and convenience to the students, 
and will add materially to the appearance of the College Campus. 

To our class-mates Ave wish to say a word in this connection. Many of them 
are receiving the finishing touch, which is to make them scholars and gentle- 
men, while the rest are making up for lost time and want of application. The 
farmer are considering the important question, "what must I do?" when 
tir:,ugh college, Avhile the latter are debating the no less important one, 
"what can I do?" To them, as well as all others, we recommend the follow- 
ing piece of advice, which Ave lately heard given to a member of the Senior 
Ciass, A?ho was consulting a laAvyer in reference to the propriety of entering 
the political arena on lea\ 7 ing college. Said he: "When done with college, 
go home and bury yourself in the bosom of Nature ; study Constitutional Law, 

1859.] Editors' Table. 253 

Political Economy, Moral Philosophy ; read and digest the history of your 
country ; spread before you the lore of Grecian and Roman antiquities, and 
delight your palate with ' a feast of reason and a flow of soul ;" let politics 
alone till your countrymen perceive your worth and demand your services — 

" Be just and fear not: 
Let all the ends thou aim'st at, be thy country's, 
Thy God's, and truth's." 

The Fair. — As stated in our last, we were very anxious to respond to tho 
kind invitation of the State Agricultural Society by attending the Fair en 
corps, but were prevented by a sense of duty which we owed no less to our- 
selves than the public. We arranged, however, so as to send one half of our 
number, (viz : Messrs Bryan, Nicholson and Weir,) having deputed them to 
observe everything, enjoy everything, and do all the courting for the corps. 
Wc who had to forego such pleasure tried to console ourselves, for we knew 
we would be well represented by our delegates. They have returned perfect- 
ly delighted, especially one of them, who, his colleagues say, wanted to see 
a little more of the fair ; they hand in the following report: 

We must confess we felt somewhat flattered by our editorial brethren, as we 
were not quite sure as to what rule guided them while selecting delegates. 
Some told us we had been appointed on account of good looks; others said the 
corps wished to appear talented, and others again would have it that we owed 
our appointment to our dignity. But, to tell the truth, we now know that our 
brethren, following a characteristic rule, bent their wills so as to suit conve- 
nience. In Raleigh we found a room reserved for us by a kind friend, whose 
name we would give, were we not unwilling to make him blush, for he is too 
modest to allow the types to use his name. 

We are unanimously of opinion that the Fair was a decided 7iit; at least 
some of us were struck, not, however, by a huge club in the hands of a cruel 
civil officer, but rather by a more agreeable, though not less potent weapon, 
which, as we have been informed, came from the hands of Cupid. 

But, to be candid, no Fair has reflected more credit upon the wealth, inge- 
nuity and industry of our good old State ; each county seemed to vie with its 
sisters in efforts to honor and improve our common mother. To mention the 
numerous articles of interest exhibited would occupy our entire number, and 
to attempt a discrimination would be invidious. We may be allowed, how- 
ever, to say that Floral Hall was, to us, beyond all comparison, the most at- 
tractive department, because it had been fitted up and was superintended by 
the fair daughters of Carolina. 

On returning to our room, Thursday evening, we found a young friend on 
somewhat of a soiree, (as he said) though he swore he would go to the razee at 
St. Mary's. We suppose he must have been on some kind of an ee, for we 
heard him say, just before leaving Dr. Smeades', that he had taken two sweet 

With this eingle exception, we neither saw nor heard anything on the part 

254 Editors' Table. [November 

of the Chapel-IIillians, which we would have made otherwise if they had given 
us full control over their actions. Indeed, not even the ladies could find any- 
thing to complain of: and we hope the young lady at St. Mary's who directed 
a ticket to "The Good Boys of Chapel Hill," is now convinced that we have 
such, and mostly such, in the University. A friend intends to direct a Ball 
Ticket to " The Good Girl at St. Mary's." Wonder to whom the P. M. will 

give it? Mr. thinks his sweetheart will receive it. 

Upon the whole, we must say we were well pleased with every one and 
every thing while in Raleigh, and will be sure to visit the " City of Oaks" 

Contributors. — We are indebted to Judge Battle for our leading article in 
this number, and we expect to present memoirs of other Supreme Court Judges 
as we procure them. We think we may safely assure the prominent men of 
the State that their articles will be printed according to copy, and without any 
mistake ; and, thankful for what we have already received, we request them 
to contribute as often as they find it convenient. 

We also refer the students to several prize articles, and we think it high 
time for those who have not yet written to begin. Bemember, it will be a 
high honor to get one, or both, the prizes, in addition to the privilege of mak- 
ing an extensive selection of valuable books. If your pieces are rejected, how- 
ever, don't become discouraged and say we are " envious of your growing repu- 
tation," but try again, and we shall certainly give you a fair hearing. We 
don't expect to be Editors always, and we would advise candidates for the 
ofiice to contribute, as that is the best way to electioneer with their class-mates 
and the only way recognized by the majority of them. 

Our Table. — We have heretofore neglected to acknowledge the receipt of 
quite a number of pamphlets and periodicals, which render our table really 
attractive. Our friends who have been so kind as to forward them will please 
accept our thanks for the many favors they have done us, and as our editorial 
pages will not be so crowded in the future we promise to be more puntual in 
our acknowledgements. They are too numerous, however, to be separately 
mentioned here, but we promise our fellow- students that if they will call at 
♦the Editors' Office, we can furnish them with a variety of choice literature 
and will take great pleasure in doing so, if they will agree to return the same 
without injury. 

Jgig^We are pleased to state that Engravings, suitable for frames, of Hon. 
A. V. Brown and Bev. F. M. Hubbard, may be procured at the University 
Bookstore of E. Mallett & Co. 

1859.] Editors' Table. 255 

Promotion of a Graduate. — We are pleased to learn thatB. F. Grady, Esq., 
of this State, has been elected to the Chair of Mathematics in the University 
of Austin, Texas. Mr. Grady graduated in the class of 1856-7, with the 
highest honors of this University, and was one of the Editors of the Magazine. 
With talents of a very high order and habits of close application, he bids fair 
to fill his new position with credit to himself and his Alma Mater. 

JB@f Our thanks are due the Union Agricultural Society of New-Berne for 
a Complimentary Ticket to its Fair. Most gladly will we attend the Fair, if 
possible ; but as it will be so near our Examination week, we«fear we shall be 
unable to accept the hospitality of our numerous friends of the Athens of 
North Carolina. 

B@* The practiced eye of the reader will doubtless detect au unnecessary 
space between the letters of some French words in the second article in this 
Number. As our publishers had no accented letters at the time, we concluded 
to use minute marks rather than omit the accents altogether, and hence the' 
unavoidable error. 

Shakspeare has wisely said, 

"There's a divinity that shapes our ends, 
Rough hew them as we will." 

Our printer has remarked, apparently with much truth, that the passage 
should read thus : 

" There's a divinity that shapes our ends rough, 
Hew them as we will." 
There's only the difference of a comma, between the two. 

figp At a regimental muster in the Western part of North Carolina, the 
Colonel who was a Dutchman was receiving the salutes of the line, when one 
of the Captains passed without presenting his sword. A second time he fail- 
ed to present, when the Colonel, riding up to him in a great rage, exclaimed,, 
"of all the men I ever saw, the tarn fool has the least sense." 

B@* BillReid says there are two classes of society : the one the laboring class, 
and the other, those who live off of the laborers, and that he is very well pleas- 
ed with the division, but, blast the luck, he happened to get on the wrong side. 

Tributes of Respect. 


Dialectic Hall, Sept. 10th, 1859. 

Whereas, God, in his infinite -wisdom, has called away from earth Norman 
A. Morrison, of Richmond county,' N. C, who graduated at this University 
in 1857 ; therefore, the Dialectic Society, deploring the loss of this beloved 
member, has 

Resolved, That while we humbly submit to the Divine Will, our hearts are 
filled with grief^at the decease of one so young and so good, and of one whose 
prospects were so bright for a long, happy and useful life. 

Resolved, That in his death we have lost a friend ; that the community of 
which he was a member is deprived of one of its best and most useful citizens ; 
and that his relatives have sustained a loss which none but they can know. 

Resolved, That we tender our heart-felt sympathies to his bereaved relatives, 
and mingle our tears with theirs on a common altar of grief; yet, we would 
bid them be consoled by the reflection that there is bliss beyond the grave, 
and that "Heaven oft in mercy smites, even when the blow severest is," 

Resolved, That a copy of these resolutions be entered upon our records ; 
that a copy of the same be sent to the family of the deceased, and to the Fay- 
etteville Observer, N, C. Presbyterian, Wadesboro' Argus, University Maga- 
zine, and New Orleans Picayune. 

A. T. COLE, 


S. P. WEIR, 


Dialectic Hall, Oct. 18, 1859. 

Whereas, the Dialectic Society has heard of the decease of Jesse H. Lind- 
say, Jr., of Greensboro', N. C. — him who a few years ago left our midst with 
budding hopes which before realized were forever blighted by the chilling 
frost of death ; and whereas it is our mournful privilege, as members of a com- 
mon brotherhood, to offer this our last sad tribute of respect to the memory of 
our departed brother ; therefore, 

Resolved, That while we deplore the loss we have sustained, we bow with 
meekness and resignation to the immutable decree of Him who inflicts the 
heavy blow. 

Resolved, That we offer our deepest sympathy to the family of the deceased, 
pointing them to that Eternal Source from which alone flows that balm which 
can heal the wounded and bleeding heart. 

Resolved, That a copy of these resolutions be sent to the family of the de- 
ceased, the Greensboro' Patriot and Times, N. C. Presbyterian and University 
Magazine, with a request to publish them. 


ft ..' ' ". ~ 

% m Mo F ■ E SI 











Frederic Nash, the subject of this brief memoir, was born on the 
9th February, 1781, in the old colonial palace at New-Berne, his father, 
Abner Nash, being then the Governor of the new State, having in 1780 
succeeded Richard Caswell, the first Governor under the republican form 
of Government. 

The ancestors of Judge Nash were among the most distinguished of 
the early colonists j his maternal ancestor, Frederic Jones, was a very 
large land holder, and holding a prominent position in the councils of the 

Governor Nash was a member of the Continental Congress from 1782 
to 1786, and died in Philadelphia while he was in attendance as a mem- 
ber. His family were then residing at the ancient family seat (called 
" Pembroke") on Trent river, near New-Berne, and his body was brought 
home and deposited in the family vault at that place. 

Judge Nash was too young when his father died to retain much recol- 
lection of him, but of his mother his recollections were vivid, tender and 
grateful in the highest degree. 

His uncle, Francis Nash, achieved a high rank in the Revolutionary 
army, and fell upon the well fought field of Germantown, where he pour- 
ed forth his life's blood as a libation in his country's cause. 

The writer of this brief sketch has heard Judge Nash relate with pride 
and pleasure, as among his earliest recollections, an incident which occur- 
red upon the visit of President "Washington to New-Berne, during his 
first Presidency, in 1791. 

A grand entertainment and ball was given by the citizens to the Presi- 

258 Memoir of Judge Nash. [December 

dent in thfe old palace. The old town contributed all that patriotism 
could suggest to honor the First President. Amid the brilliant scene, 
the Father of his Country, towering in moral grandeur, attracted all eyes 
and all hearts. Upon none did this noble spectacle produce a profounder 
or more grateful impression than upon the gentle sex, who are always the 
disinterested and ardent admirers of all that is great and good. The 
mother of our deceased friend was present, and cordially yielded her 
heart-felt tribute j and desiring that her boy should have the privilege of 
participating in the homage, she called him up and presented him to the 
Chief, who took him upon his knee, placed his hand upon his head and 
spoke words of kindness and encouragement, reminded him of his gallant 
uncle, Gen. Francis Nash, and proposed him as a brilliant exemplar. 
What boy who ever sat upon the knee of Washington and felt on his 
head the weight of his hand could ever do a dishonorable act ? The re- 
collection of such an honor would elevate his heart and ennoble all its im- 
pulses. The boy was reared according to the doctrines and principles of 
the " Old School/' he was taught to fear his God, to honor his parents, 
and obey the law of the land. Hence he was always eminently conserva- 
tive as a citizen and public man. 

When he was quite young, he was sent to Williamsboro', in Granville 
county, to the school of the Rev. Mr. Patillo, a Piesbyterian clergyman, 
and emir it in his day as a sound scholar and classical teacher. He was 
prepared for college by the Rev. Thomas P. Irving, of New-Berne, an 
Episcopal minister of eminent attainments, and renowned in his day for 
severe and rigid discipline. This Reverend gentleman took it for granted 
that all his pupils could learn, nor did he relinquish that opinion until he 
had made what he deemed a fair experiment, not by " moral suasion'' 
alone, but by the vigorous application of chinquepin and hickory. The 
result was, however the system may be discredited in these days of supe- 
rior illumination, (or hallucination) that his hoys, as he called them, when 
they went to college, whether at home or abroad, were found to be suc- 
cessful combatants for the highest honors. 

Judge Nash was graduated at Princeton in 1799. The English Salu- 
tatory was assigned him, regarded as the second distinction. In thii 
class were John Forsyth, Governor of Georgia, Secretary of State, &c. 
and his highly valued friend, James C. Johnston, of Edenton. Fron 
Princeton he returned home, the family then residing at Pembroke. Hi 
mother died in the following October. On her death bed, while her soj 
was kneeling by her side and holding one of her hands, she solemnli 
placed the other on his head, and said to her friend, the attending physi 
eian — "Doctor McClure, here is a son who has never given me one md 
meat s pain." She committed to his care her children, four daughtei 

1589.] Memoir of Judge Nash. 259 

and one son, and most faithfully and nobly did he discharge this sacred 
trust, devoting to them his time, his talents and his love. It is pleading 
to say that they always manifested towards him the deepest gratitude and 
veneration. He survived them all. 

He applied himself to the study of the law, and became a member of 
the Bar. As a lawyer, he was distinguished for his upright and honora- 
ble conduct. While serving his clients with fidelity, he disdained to use 
any unworthy artifice or trick to ensure success, and abhorred all chicanery 
and ambidextrous dealing. To the younger brethren of the profession 
he was kind and considerate, and while by his example he furnished a 
model for their guidance, by his advice and encouragement he cheered 
them on their sometimes dreary way. Occupying the position which he 
did, it was natural that his fellow citizens should look to him as a public 
servant and representative in the halls of legislation. His popularity was 
the natural offspring of his character. It was based upon the solid foun- 
dation of virtue and talents. It was no sickly exotic that required constant 
nursing, but was hardy and vigorous, and lofty as the pine of his native 

In 1803 he was married at Elizabethtown, New Jersey, to Miss Mary 
Kallock, and in her obtained the inestimable treasure of a good wife, who 
alleviated all his troubles and enhanced all his joys. 

In the years 1804-'5 he represented his native town (New-Berne,) in 
the House of Commons, and was early distinguished for sterling honestly, 
talents and devotion to the Constitution. He early acquired an influence 
in the House, which, joined to the confidence reposed in his purity of 
character and ability, rendered him a most formidable antagonist to cor- 
rupt and venal traders in politics. He continued to reside in New-Berne 
and pursue his profession with success until 1808, when he was induced 
to remove to Hillsboro', being principally induced by the superior health- 
fulness of the climate. 

Judge Nash was elected a Trustee of the University of North Carolina 
in the year 1807, and was always an ardent friend and patron of that in- 
stitution. Established by our forefathers by a constitutional injunction, it 
ha^ vindicated their wise foresight, and may now be regarded, not only as 
a beacon light dispelling darkness and guiding to a safe port, but as one 
of the great conservative barriers of the Republic. " May its shadow 
never be less." 

In the years 1814-15 he appeared again in the Legislature as one of 
the representatives of the county of Orange. He was decidedly and con- 
scientiously opposed to duelling, and while a member of the Legislature 
of 1815, he introduced a bill for its suppression, which he advocated by 
an able and eloquent speech. "The closing scene of life (says he) is one 

2G0 Memoir of Judge Nash. [December 

of tremendous moment to every rational being — we should wisb to ap- 
proach it with every holy affection about us. Is this the case with the 
duellist, when planting his foot on the verge of eternity ? Is he prepared 
to appear before the judgment seat? Is his heart in charity with all 
mankind — glowing with love and gratitude to the great Author and Fin- 
isher of his being? How awful is the reverse ! His heart swelling with 
every malignant passion, pride, anger and revenge— he comes to destroy 
and not to save — to curse and not to bless, and in the bitterness of such 
feelings is hurried unbidden into the presence of his Maker." 

Upon his removal to Hillsboro', he purchased the dwelling house of his 
friend and relative, Judge Cameron, and there resided until his death. 

He attended the courts of Orange and Granville for many years, and 
enjoyed the legitimate fruits of his unsullied reputation and ability in the 
large and liberal practice which he obtained. 

He was an especial favorite in the county of Granville, where his prac- 
tice was very lucrative. During the Presidency of Dr. Chapman at Cha- 
pel Hill, he and his devoted wife became members of the Presbyterian 
Church, and during a period of near half a century, by their life and con- 
versation, adorned the doctrine of their Lord and Saviour. Their house 
was the abode of a generous and refined hospitality, and was especially 
the home of the servants of their Saviour. 

Uncalculating in his generosity of soul, he had not worldly wisdom 
enough to desire the accumulation of wealth, and in his declining days re- 
gretted that he had not, on account of his family, been more considerate 
in this respect. 

Judge Nash's judiciary career commenced in 1818, by his unsolicited 
appointment to the Circuit Bench, which post he occupied till 1826. 

This office requires for its just discharge, not only legal learning, but 
high moral qualities — there are many severe trials of patience and temper. 

The Judge has often, not only to restrain the ardor of counsel who has 
adopted his client's cause as his own — sternly to hold the scales of justice 
in equipoise — but even sometimes to take care that the client's cause does 
not suffer from the rashness, inexperience or neglect of counsel — to en- 
courage the timid and rebuke the bold. 

Judge Nash was quite equal to these duties, and, moreover, possessed 
in an eminent degree that rare and noble quality, " moral courage." 

If he erred in his opinion, he had the magnanimity to avow it and that too 
publicly on the bench. He possessed those qualities which a distinguish- 
ed writer, Loid Campbell, (himself an eminent Judge,) has designated as 
essential to a good Judge : " Patience in hearing, evenness of temper and 
kindness of heart." These with competent learning, and the urbane 
manners of a gentleman, acquired by early associations in a town where the 

1859.] Memoir of Judge Nash. 261 

" traditional culture" of the olden time still lingered, contributed to form 
a character of rare judicial excellence. 

Upon his breast the ermine acquired additional purity. Though his 
judicial character was marked by the courtesy and kindness of the chris- 
tian gentleman, yet when duty required, he manifested all the sternness 
and inflexibility of the Judge. He rejoiced in the truth, and boldly sus- 
tained it in all the various contingencies of a long and useful life ; he was 
no timid worshipper of a false and fleeting popularity, that " echo of folly 
and shadow of renown," but did his duty and left the consequences to his 

He resigned his seat on the Circuit Bench in 1826, and in 1827-'28, 
represented the borough of Hillsboro' in the House of Commons. During 
the session of 1828 a series of very severe, and as many able lawyers 
thought, intemperate and unconstitutional measures, were proposed against 
the Banks of the State. Mr. Nash, having no interest of a pecuniary 
nature in these institutions, felt that a great principle was involved, and 
knowing that the Constitution was often most successfully assailed by 
means of a popular hue and cry, he manfully breasted the torrent, and in 
a speech fraught with the noblest inspirations and replete with cogent ar- 
gument, forced conviction on the minds of the doubting, and defeated the 
wild and mischievous schemes of those who were determined, "per fas 
aut nefas," to crush these then unpopular institutions. 

The effect of his oratory was very much aided by the polished amenity 
of his manner, and by the confidence which was universally felt in his 
purity and honesty of purpose, while his language was chaste and earnest, 
the tones of his voice were pleasant, and the hearts of his auditors, fear- 
ing no guile, willingly admitted his persuasive appeals. 

He was again elected to the Superior Court Bench in 1886, and in 
1844 was transferred to the Bench of the Supreme Court to fill the va- 
cancy caused by the death of the lamented Gaston. 

Upon the resignation of the Hon. Thomas Buffin, he was appointed 
■ Chief Justice, which eminent position he held until his death. 

Being now a member of the tribunal of the last resort, he devoted him- 
♦ self conscientiously and laboriously to the performance of the high and 
sometimes awful duties incident to his station. It is known to those con- 
versant with our system of jurisprudence that almost every capital case 
is finally decided by the Supreme Court. In the hands of the Judges 
are the issues of life and death. How dreadful the responsibility if ques- 
tions of this character are determined without the most patient delibera- 
tion — the most anxious desire to administer justice, and without a satis- 
factory assurance to the conscience that the law has been rightfully and 
duly administered. In all these cases the noble qualities of the Christian 

262 Memoir of Judge Nash. [December 

Magistrate shone conspicuously in Judge Nash To him, "no delay was 
long " if required by the nature of the case under deliberation, and 
especially where the life of a fellow creature was involved, and when 
he felt himself sustained by right and justice, no earthly consideration 
could sway his firm resolve. 

The last public act of Judge Nash was the attendance on the Synod of 
North Carolina, which assembled at his native town the autumn before 
his death. Of this body he was a zealous and useful member, and cor- 
dially united with its members in the service of tl e God whom he loved 
and adored. 

It is thought that to the fatigue and exposure incident to his journey 
home from this Assembly his mortal illness is to be ascribed. If so, it 
must have been to him a source of joy that he died in harness as a soldier 
of the cross. 

His earthly honors, however great, paled before the glorious scene 
which his death bed presented. Here might be seen how a Christain 
dies. Although conscious of approaching dissolution, his tender anxiety 
for his family was manifested in attention to their comfort and health, in 
utter forgetfulness of self. 

He evinced a firmness and calmness in these awful moments unsur- 
passed. The urbanity of the gentleman still lingered and was beautifully 
and harmoniously blended with the affectionate kindness of the father — 
the tender devotion of the husband was associated with the sincere and 
cheerful submission of the Christian. 

A friend called in to see him when his end was supposed to be rapidly 
approaching. To him he talked so calmly of his future state — so cheer- 
fully and with a trust so firm and unshaken in his Saviour, that he ex- 
claimed, when he left his bedside — " This is a glorious termination of 
life." It was indeed glorious as an end, but still more so as the beginning 
of the life eternal. It was a glory, compared with which, the pomp and 
triumphs of the battle field fade into insignificance. At that mo- 
ment, the recollection of a well-spent life was far more consoling to him- 
self and his family, than if he had been the victor on a hundred fields. 
He had his triumph, and a noble one, though achieved upon the lowly 
bed of the dying christian. 

To his family and friends his loss is indeed irreparable ; but they may 
well exclaim in regard to such a man — 

" 'Tis better to have loved and lost, 
Than never to have loved at all." 

Judge Nash died at his home in Hillsborough, on the 5th day of Decem- 
ber, 1858. 

1859.] Address of Mr Winslow. 263 



(At the Commencement of 1857,) 


Mr. President and G-entlemen of the Alumni : 

Good old Doctor Caldwell, in times gone by, was wont to amuse his 
listeners with an anecdote, which never failed to excite himself to mirth. 

His story was of a collegian, in the early days of the institution, who 
had applied for leave of absence to attend the Hillsboro' races. Why, 
Mr. xV., said the good President, the races do not take place for some six 
weeks ; I think you are premature. I thank you, sir, said he. Sometime 
after, there came one of those awful summons to the South Building, to 
answer to a charge of an unauthorized departure from college. The col- 
legian confessed and avoided; he stoutly insisted that the Doctor had 
granted him permission, and this the Doctor as stoutly denied Why, sir, 
he said, you told me as plainly as language could express it, I was jwema- 
ture ; and this, I supposed to mean, I was mighty welcome. 

His wit on his ignorance excused him. 

I had hardly accepted as an act of duty, from which I deemed I ought 
not to shrink, your kind invitation to address you, when I repented and 
thought I was premature, and I would have unsaid, could I have done so, 
the words of acquiescence. I would fain have stopped the voyage, ere I 
had weighed the anchor. Indeed, I am not sure, but that I would not now 
throw up the adventure, and abandon as a total loss to the underwriters. 
But yet I am here, gentlemen, at your bidding, with great gain to myself, 
at least, although with loss to you. For what can I promise you ? For 
years at these seats of the Muses, surrounded by the fair women and the 
brave men of North Carolina, with her youthful chivalry just ready to 
put off the prtetextile and to don the virile toga, preparing to take their 
positions in the great battle of life ; for years, here, have you gazed again 
and again upon the canvass glowing with the pictures of the great masters. 
Can an humble limner and a mere novice in the art, arrest your attention 
and satisfy your wishes ? His hand, would he trace the sketches, is a 
rude one, and the buskin sits loosely upon the speaker's unaccustomed ancle. 

But yet, if I cannot promise to myself that I shall instruct or entertain 
you ; if the pictures I shall present will pale before those of the Murpheys 
and the Gastong, and the illustrious sons of our Alma Mater, who hav« 

2$1 Address of Mr. Winslow. - [December 

poured out their treasures of learning and eloquence at your bidding, I 
can at least bring to our fostering mother the votive offerings of sincere 
affection to strew upon her altars. I can, at least, bring hither a heart 
swelling with love to North Carolina, and devotion to her interests. Nay, 
if I come from the sweat and and the strife and the toil of the political 
. arena, I may with truth declare, that I come back to these happy abodes 
with the same feeling with which the wandering dove returns, after a 
forced pilgrimage, to nestle in the loved haunts and dear spots of its na- 
tivity. Many lustra have passed away since I was present at your Com- 
mencement Exercises. Ah ! what changes have not those lustra marked ! 
I find in the academic staff but two of those excellent gentlemen who in 
our youth wrought to lead our footsteps through the flowery fields and 
verdant lawns of literature. In our classes Death hath made sad havoc. 
Thinned are the ranks of our youthful comrades, and upon those of us 
who remain, Time hath ploughed deep his furrows. The associations of 
the spot bring our recollections most vividly to the dear friends of our 
boyhood. We look expectingly to greet them — 

" On th' accustomed hill 
Along the heath, and near the fav'rite tree." 

Still those recollections are pleasing, if mournful to the soul. There 
are no friendships so disinterested and unselfish as those of our school 
days. They are formed when the young mind is tender and impressible, 
unstained by considerations of worldly honor and worldly interest, ere the 
soul hath been made callous by the cares and calamities of life, ere the 
experience hath taught us the shallowness of worldly professions and the 
emptiness of worldly fame, while yet earth seems wreathed in perpetual 
smiles and sunshine, while yet we are spectators and not actors in life's 
drama, ere the illusions of the young imagination have been dispelled by 
passing behind the curtain to see that what seemed gold is but tinsel. 
And no matter what the after experience may bring to us, these impressions 
are never wholly effaced nor obliterated. Advancing in age, and increas- 
ing in distrust, we turn back to them with pleasure, and cling to them 
with tenacity. For these young attachments are things of beauty, and 

"A thing of beauty is a joy forever!" 
Around these young attachments, memory throws indeed a beauty. As 
the moonbeam mellows and refines that which in the garish light of day 
dazzles, and, perchance, offends the vision, so these young attachments, 
viewed through the medium of the memory, come back to us softened and 
sanctified. Happy for their sakes and for our own, we have few points 
from which to view them, and few objects with which to compare them; 
They sink into our souls and cut channels there which time in vain essays 
to hinder. 

1859.] Address of Mr. Winslow. 265 

Early in our boy days the little spring of experience bubbles out, and 
as its gentle rill glides in the onward progress of life, until it swells its 
volume and surmounting all obstacles, becomes the rapid river hurrying on 
to bear its tribute to the great ocean of eternity, its pure stream becomes 
contaminated and turbid with the rivalries, and hates, and jealousies, and 
envies, engendered by corrupt and ignoble pursuits and aspirations. How 
sweet then the occasion which leads us back to our early associations, how 
dear those reminiscences which seemingly rejuvenate us, and well up to 
the soul that little fountain of friendship, in whose crystal waters are 
glassed the images of the dear departed ones. Assembled as we are, 
many of us after the lapse of a quarter of a century, we must be startled 
at, and admire, the vast changes the world has undergone during that time, 
and our country's wonderful and rapid strides in progress. The spectacle 
is grand and imposing. When many of us left the University, during the 
Presidency of the younger Adams, the confederated States of the Union 
numbered but twenty-four, now thirty-one stars twinkle in the constella- 
tion, and afar off in the nebulous matter, the unaided vision may detect 
the glitter of incipient others, amid the star-dust which on every side sur- 
rounds them. Our banner flaunts from its ancient flag-staffs on the At- 
lantic, yields to the breezes of the gulf, and is planted in those distant re- 
gions where the rivers of California run down their golden sands into the 
bosom of the placid Pacific. And we are meditating fresh conquests, not 
of arms, but of civilization, borne onward by the indomitable spirit of our 
race, and the undying energies of our free institutions. Our population 
has been increased from twelve to twenty-seven millions, while the area of 
theKepublic has enlarged from 2,055,163 to 3,230.572 square miles. At 
that time not a mile of railroad existed in the whole country, now 24,000 
miles of completed railroad are daily traversed by the locomotive, while 
16,000 miles are in progress of completion. Fulton's genius had then but 
fairly triumphed over the ridicule to which, by some invariable law, all sub- 
lime inventions seem to be subjected. Now our streams and lakes and both 
oceans are covered with these magnificent creations of art. With our in- 
ventions we mock at distance, and annihilate space. The eternal moun- 
tains oppose our progress no longer. We dart through the solid moun- 
tain passes of the Alleghany, wind our way upward along the banks of his 
own rivulets, until we lay our profane hands upon his hoary tresses, and 
from the very summit of his peaks look upon the smiling vallies which 
the sun gilds with his declining beams. Even now we rashly meditate to 
scale the Rocky Mountains, in our irresistible progress to the far west. 
Nay, emulous of the bird of Jove, we take wings unto ourselves, and soar 
away into the heavens, star gazing 

266 Address of Mr. Winslow. [December 

Audax omnia perpeti * * * 
Cozlum ipsum petimus stultite. 

We have tamed the lightning and taught it to speak for us. We are 
putting a girdle about the earth to enable us to converse with the most 
distant parts of the planet with unappreciable delay. Disarming the 
lightning of its fury, we subdue it by our electrics, and draw gently down 
the anger from the clouds. The genius of Maury marks for the tempest- 
tost mariner trackless paths on the bosom of the great deep, which our 
thousand fleets sweep over. Thus we make the elements themselves tho 
slaves of our bidding. The science of government exhibits its great im- 
provement in the increased comfort and upward tendency of the once 
down-trodden masses. In medicine and the healing arts, the advance- 
ment has been great and important. The ratio of mortality has declined 
from one in twenty to one in forty, while the average duration of life has 
been prolonged ten years, and the discovery of the anesthetic agencies of 
chloroform and ether has robbed pain of its power, and armed the minis- 
tering physician with ample means to relieve the distressed and afflict- 
ed. Centuries had elapsed since Narcissus had become enamored of his 
image reflected in the glassy stream — human ingenuity had invented 
mirrors of every material and every degree of polish, wherein the fair 
might survey their beauties and contemplate their charms, and yet not to 
one of the millions who had looked upon a mirror, had it ever occurred 
the possibility of detaining there the image thus reflected. It was re- 
served for the genius of Daguerre and for the nineteenth century to call 
chemistry to their aid, and now we make Apollo paint ior us, and by 
means of the sun's rays we obtain perfect pictures of every object, upon 
which he but looks for an instant. In astronomy the progress has been 
marvellous indeed. The great telescope of Lord Rosse has revealed to 
us the immensity of creation, and gratified us with wonders which would 
have gladdened the hearts of Herschell and Kepler. The discovery of 
the new planet Neptune by Le Venier attests the amazing perfection to- 
which the science of numbers has been brought. To my mind this is a 
discovery the sublimest of an age fertile in wonderful results and search- 
ing inquiries. Sitting in his closet, by a series of deductions drawn from 
the most abstruse mathematical calculations, a philosopher places his fin- 
ger upon a celestial chart, and announces that the great truths of the 
science he professes demand that at a particular point, and place, there 
should be an additional member of the system, and says here must be the 
star; and the telescope is directed far away in the immensity of space, 
and lo ! a star twinkles and shines which never shone before. 

Such indeed hastily sketched, is the unexampled progress of the age in 

1859.] Address of Mr. Wlnshw. 267 

which we live. Such is the advancement of our country in population, 
wealth, influence, and physical strength, that she justly merits the epithet 
applied to her, the great Colossus of the "West. 

In the meantime it may not be wholly profitless to inquire how far 
North Carolina has contributed to these results, and what part she hath 
borne therein. When the Federal Constitution was formed, North Caro- 
lina ranked the third State of the confederacy in point of population, 
coming nest upon the roll after Pennsylvania and Virginia. In 1800 
she gave place to New York and became fourth, maintaining that position 
until 1830, when she yielded to Ohio; and since at every decennial enu- 
meration she has retrograded, until in 1850 she stood tenth. In that 
year she had within her limits a white population of 556,248 souls, while . 
there were in the other States and Territories 283,079 natives of her soil. 
More than one-half of her whole white population had migrated. If we 
consider the vast drain of her slaves into the fertile and fresh lands of 
Alabama, Mississippi, the Floridas, and elsewhere, it is fair to conclude 
that had they remained at home, she would nearly have retained her ori- 
ginal relative position. Between 1830 and 1840 there left her confines 
seeking new homes 99,156 souls, an exodus of nearly one sixth of her 
population in ten years. 

"While thus an officina gentium contributing so largely to the peopling 
other states and territories, she derived no increase herself from immigra- 
tion, having within her borders in 1850 but 2,741 persons, men, women 
and children of foreign birth. During the past decade her population had 
increased at the rate of 15.5 per centum, against 2.1 at the preceding 
enumeration, being the ordinary rate, exclusive of foreign immigration, 
and leading us to hope that it had at last become stable. 

Passing her exports to a very great extent through the seaports of her 
neighbors, South Carolina and Virginia, the custom-house books give little 
indication of her products, surplus or otherwise. The old school books, in 
the brief paragraphs devoted to her, set down tar, pitch and turpentine 
as her staples, until the world has come "to think we have none other, and 
even our own people are astonished 'when informed of her vast resources 
and productions. It may excite some surprise to be told that she grew 
in 1850 more cotton than Texas, Arkansas or Florida, and yet in this state ' 
of things no effort whatever is made to remove these erroneous impressions, 
and she seems to move along as if careless of her fame. The historian, 
Bancroft, speaking of her to a distinguished gentleman of a neighboring 
State, remarked that while she had so many acts of heroism of which to 
boast, and had in revolutionary times performed such great deeds, and 
rendered such conspicuous services, there was scarcely an individual within 
her borders who seemed disposed to aid him in illustrating her history, 

268 Address of Mr. Wiuslow. [December 

or in removing the mass of rubbish which obscured its materials, and yet 
she became offended if the historian failed to do her justice, or passed her 
by unnoticed, even in those particulars where the means to do so were 
peculiarly and exclusively in the hands of her own people. Whatever 
may be Mr. Bancroft's right to complain, in this particular, how far such 
a reproach may be merited from Mm, no one can deny that the general 
criticism is but too just. 

To give some general idea of the annual products of North Carolina, 
supposing that it might not be wholly uninteresting, and in my judgment, 
not altogether inappropriate to an address to the Alumni of the Universi- 
ty, an association whose objects are the welfare of the State and the ad- 
vancement of the Commonwealth in everything good and great, and hop- 
ing that it may contribute somewhat to the enlargement of our self-esteem, 
a want of which is the capital defect in the North Carolina character, I 
have availed myself of all the means within my reach to ascertain these 
products. Most of the items are derived from actual researches made in 
1850, and are therefore much lower than the results would prove at this 
day. Others are founded upon more recent information, to be relied upon. 

The annual product of the State may then be set down as to the lead- 
ing articles, quite accurately, thus : 

Wheat, 4,200,000 bushels. I Cotton, 20,218,000 pounds. 

Oats, 4,115,273 " | Rice, 5,465,868 

Corn, 27,941,051 " Tobacco, 11,984,786 

Potatoes, 5,716,027 " | Sugar, 27,932 

Peas, : 1,584,258 " I Wool, 990,738 

Eye, 229,563 " | Beeswax, 512,489 

"Buckwheat, 16,704 " I Butter, 4,410,290 

Barley, , 2,735 " | Flax, 593,756 

Wine, 40,000 gallons. 

The annual value of her fisheries is $250,025. Her exports of Naval 
Stores and lumber to foreign parts, reach the amount of $838,511. These 
statements do not include the very large amount of Naval Stores and 
lumber shipped coastwise, nor the products of her gold, silver, copper, 
lead, iron and coal mines. 

In cotton manufactories, she ranks the tenth State in the Union. The 
entire manufactories, domestic included, in the year 1856, was estimated 
at $11,200,142, and the products of agriculture at $31,712,146. In 
miles of railroad she ranks tenth among her sister States, having in actual 
operation 653, and in process of construction 482, having expended in 
that department of improvement a capital of $8,384,426. But perhaps 
it is not so much of the physical products as of the intellectual efforts of 
the State that the inquiry would be more strictly pertinent on the present 

What part hath North Carolina borne in the great moral advancement 

1859.] Address of Mr. Winslow. 269 

of the country; what have been her contributions to science, to literature, 
and to the inventive arts? Alas ! I fear the response would be altogether 
unfavorable to her reputation. It was perhaps a harsh and satiricaf reply 
which one of her citizens gave, a number of years since, to a gentleman 
who, seeking to enlarge his library, asked for a list of North Carolina 
publications—" Alamance and Wheeler's History." And yet I know not 
that the catalogue could, even now, be much extended. There is, however, 
in this connection much to encourage us. We have unquestionably made 
vast progress in education in the past score of years. In literature we 
have a volume of our hitherto unwritten history from the pen of an 
associate— who is distinguished hardly less by his classic taste an/l 
ripe learning, than by his earnest zeal every where, and at all times 
exhibited, for the welfare and well-doing of the State, and this and 
the very interesting biography of the distinguished Iredell, from the 
pen of another Alumnus of this University, gives promise that those 
events in our history, worthy of being recorded, will yet be rescued 
from oblivion. In the department of Common School education there is 
an annual expenditure from the general fund of $180,000 with perhaps 
a like sum from the voluntary taxations of the counties. Academies, 
high schools and colleges, especially for female education, have rapidly 
multiplied, while our good Mother, the University, is running a career of 
unexpected prosperity. These are tests that the great cause of intellec- 
tual improvement is receiving apt and increasing attention. In the high- 
er walks of literature it is not to be reckoned that our progress should yet 
be marked with any very striking improvement. Perfection there, I am 
thoroughly persuaded, is dependant upon physical condition. Give to a 
people the facilities of accumulating wealth, open to them sources of labor, 
and insure to them generous rewards for their toil, and you thereby neces- 
sarily increase their intellectual condition. To refine and to exalt human 
nature, to stimulate the inventive genius of a people, you must create ar- 
tificial wants to provoke labor and to call into full force and develop the 
intellectual faculties. The fine arts, music, statuary and painting are not 
the forerunners, but the consequents, of wealth. 

. We have not, we perhaps may never have, a great city in North Caro- 
lina. Perhaps it is not very desirable that we should have one. We may 
never occupy the front ranks in any of the departments of polite litera- 
ture. A sound, wholesome, thorough education is within our means of 
acquisition, and the first step to effect it is to improve the physical condi- 
tion of the State. The expansion and completion of our improvements is 
therefore, in one sense, the advancement of education. The great roads 
which our people, aided by the State, have built and are projecting, tra- 
versing the State from the Atlantic to the Alleghanies, and from our 

270 Address of Mr. Winslow. [December 

northern to our southern boundaries, are perhaps doing quite as much for 
the intellectual improvement of our people, as the solid disbursements of 
the school fund. These reflections may serve to appease the anxieties 
and quiet the fears of those who honestly look with uneasiness at the in- 
debtedness of the State, which these works have occasioned, and may in- 
crease. If they produce no other nor greater results than the enlargement 
of our self-esteem, and the developement of a pride of character, these 
indeed will have been cheaply purchased. And we should remember with 
complacency that not a dime of the few millions we owe, has been wasted 
in ambitious wars, or in the pursuit of false glory, but that the whole sum 
has been expended in opening ways to market, extending the facilities of 
intercourse among our people, and adding to their wealth, and consequent- 
ly to their comfort. And thus the irresistible tendency of the life, and 
bustle, and activity thus produced serves to quicken the moral perceptions 
of the entire population. 

It is, however, to the thorough education of our people, that we are ul- 
timately to look for our future advancement. And the advancement of 
our State is alike due to respect for the literary, and to veneration for the 
dead. It is gratifying, undoubtedly, to recount and to dwell upon the 
glorious deeds of our fathers; to talk of Moore's Creek and of King's 
Mountain ; it may swell our vanity to recur to Mecklenburg, and we may 
speak of honest old North Carolina, and remember with pride and com- 
placency our ancestral honors. But ancestral honors are only valuable 
when they serve as incentives to great and good actions : 

" They who take them, 
Adding no brightness to them, are like the Stars 
Seen in the Ocean, which had not been there, 
But for their bright originals in Heaven." 

And to this advancement our Association have power to contribute in an 
eminent degree. We cover the whole State. Every county in it contains 
our representatives. In all the walks of life, in all the learned professions, 
and in that great occupation the most honorable, as it is the most ancient, 
the art of tilling the ground and compelling it to yield its treasures to the 
avaricious husbandman, are found the Alumni of this University. 

We see them adorned with senatorial honors, clothed in the Bishop's 
lawn, and wearing the judicial ermine. Nay, wielding the sceptre of gov- 
ernment itself. We have the:, everywhere dispersed educated gentlemen, 
whose influence upon the popular mind can scarce be reckoned, and when 
both inclination and duty compel to lend that influence to the great cause 
of education. I speak of education — not the mere education of the 
schoolmen — not the mere knowledge of books, for there is a higher edu- 
cation than these, the thorough discipline of the mind, and necessary 

1859.] Address of Mr Winslow. 271 

training of the intellectual faculties. I do not undervalue the knowledge 
of books, nor lightly estimate mere scientific attainments. In this enlight- 
ened age of the world, such knowledge is indispensable. He who would 
engage in intellectual conflict thus unaided, will find mere strength of 
mind insufficient, opposed to educational skill. He would be like a host 
upon the battle field, with the rude implements of war, used in ancient 
times, encountering the modern matchless inventions of offensive and de- 
fensive warfare. The primary objects of education, says a great thinker, 
are few and great, nobleness of character, honorable and generous affec- 
tions, a pure and bigh morality, a free, and bold, and strong, yet a tem- 
perate and well governed intellectual spirit. 

Those are the purposes of education — these the elements of its acquisi- 
tion, culture, discipline, direction. The primal curse denounced upon man 
Was the necessity of labor. Nor is this labor and toil, this sweat of the 
face, less necessary for physical than intellectual results. There is no roy- 
al road to knowledge, no short turn by which one can reach the desired 
goal. Labor is the tax we pay for acquisition. Impelled to the former 
by the cravings of the system, want and cold, and hunger and- thirst, not 
less strongly are we invoked to tbe latter by ambition, the desire of fame, 
the love of approbation and the mysterious yearnings of the soul towards 
that unknown future, which ever gapes to receive it. The stronger the 
mind, and the more enlarged its capacities, the greater need exists for its 
culture. The very fertility of the soil imposes upon the husbandman the 
greater necessity for close cultivation. He may plant the seed, but if it 
be neglected the germ will be stifled by the weeds which choke it, or else 
deprived of air and light, and moisture, it may struggle into existence, 
dwarfed in all its proportions. Or it may grow, and, forcing onward with 
innate energy, may surmount the parasites which crowd upon, and cling to 
it, but it will need the hand of the skilful orchardist to prune its redundant 
branches, and fix and fasten to the trellis its thrifty scions, that they may 
bear goodly fruit. The knowledge of books is the fertilizing agent we use 
to develop, and strengthen, and support, the mental faculties. We too often 
falsely suppose it the end, and not the means, of education. The impart- 
ing the mere knowledge of books is perhaps the most critical, as it 'is the 
earliest duty of the teacher — a profession the most important in society, 
which we undervalue and cause to be undervalued by the niggardliness of 
the remuneration we bestow upon it. I am persuaded that few men ever 
recover entirely from a deficient, or false, grounding in any department of 
learning. It is certainly so in the classics, and in the exact science of num- 
. bers. Treating of erroneous teaching, and pursuing somewhat the same 
train of thought, Rousseau relates an anecdote illustrating it. He had ac- 
cepted the invitation of a friend to spend some days with him at a chateau. 


272 Address of Mr. Winsloic. [December 

in the environs of Paris. At dinner one day, the host's son, a lively boy, 
with his tutor was admitted to the table. It was the custom of the father 
to converse with the child upon the studies of the morning, with the view 
of testing his memory, and developing his reasoning faculties. The studies 
of that day had been directed to the life of Alexander the Great. The 
boy related the well known incident in the life of the Macedonian monarch. 
Bathing in the Cydnus had brought upon him an access of fever, with 
dangerous symptoms. 

He was administered to by Philip, at once his nurse, physician and 
friend. During the treatment, Alexander received a letter from Parme- 
nio, warning him that the physician intended that day to take his life by 
the administration of a poisonous draught. As Philip extended the chal- 
ice to the king, Alexander placed in his hands the letter, and eyeing him 
intensely, drank the mixture without awaiting a reply. Rousseau was not 
at all satisfied that the boy understood the moral of the story, or had ac- 
quired any thing by the morning exercise, save lumbering his mind with 
a fact, in itself trivial and of no importance, and at the close of the din- 
ner, inviting him to walk, endeavored to draw from him the impression 
made upon him. He discovered that the boy's admiration was excited of 
Alexander's great courage and heroism, in taking a nauseous draught 
without complaint, or making a wry face. It is by proper culture that 
great quality of tact is developed and sharpened. Tact, that mental touch, 
whose faculties are as capable of extended improvement, as those of that 
physical touch, of which it is the counterpart. That acuteness of the in- 
tellectual senses which enables the mind to perceive without an effort, 
and to comprehend without an apparent reason ; which informs of an ob- 
ject with a certainty as unerring, and as reliable as the delicate papillae, of 
the fingers inform the blind, and answer to them the purposes of physical 

Perhaps we have had no man in North Carolina, who was endowed with 
this nice sense of tact, in a greater degree, than the late John Stanly. 
With it were combined rare qualities of eloquence, fluency in debate, in- 
trepidity in action, and powers of sarcasm. 

He filled, during his life, a large spase in the public eye. An instance 
of his particular readiness and tact, which I had from the lips of a distin- 
guished contemporary, may be noted, that has probably never been ex- 
celled in the history of parliamentary tactics, even in the Commons' house 
of the British Parliament. It was upon the occasion of the visit of La- 
fayette hither. That distinguished Frenchman was the guest of the na- 
tion. His passage through the country was a triumph and an ovation 
hardly exceeded by that which welcomed Tally from exile. It was of 
course desirable that he should be entertained, while in North Carolina, 

1859.] Address of Mr. Winslow. 273 

in a style suitable to her dignity and character. To urge the specific ap- 
propriation of the large sum indispensable for the purpose, might offend 
the illiberal and time-serving, who spread their sails but to catch the pop- 
ular breeze. It was concluded that a simple resolution, directing the 
Governor to draw upon the Treasury for the necessary funds to effect this 
object, might pass sub silentia, and happily not evoke what might be 
dreaded, a call for the Yeas and Nays. 

The resolution met with favor in the Senate, and its passage through 
the Common's house was intrusted to Stanly. To the chagrin of the lib- 
eral party, the yeas and nays were demanded from the anticipated quar- 
ter. All eyes were turned upon Stanly. He sprang to his feet, and with- 
out a pause for reflection, seconded the motion, upbraiding himself for 
neglecting it. 

" It is due, Mr. Speaker," said he, (< to the honor, the dignity, and the 
character of North Carolina, that if there be a craven wretch among us, 
who dare refuse this appropriation, his name be spread upon the record, 
that he may be pilloried high hereafter on the rolls of infamy." It is 
needless to say that the opponents of the measure quailed under such ter- 
rible denunciation, and the resolution passed without a dissenting voice. 

I was surveying with mingled wonder and admiration, the dense masses 
assembled before the eastern portico of the Capitol, on the occasion of the 
late Presidential inauguration. I was standing near a distinguished states- 
man who was alike occupied. He was one who had won distinction in the 
camp and in the field, and who owed his reputation, in a great degree, to 
the thorough education he had received, and to the culture T discipline , and 
direction to which his mental powers, naturally of a high order, had been 
subjected, restrained and pointed, at an institution, perhaps unrivaled in 
the world, for its completeness of instruction. Ah! said he, how I would 
like to lead such a host, in a right cause, to battle. Provided they were 
disciplined, I suggested. They would be utterly useless otherwise, he re- 
joined. Yes, indeed, mere numbers would be unavailable without train- 
ing, culture and discipline. And the fifty thousand men who stood be- 
fore us would have melted away before a few thousand veterans. 

It is just so with the moral and intellectual qualities. In vain would 
Nature endow us with the God-like gifts of genius, or scatter with a lib- 
ral hand transcendant talents. Without culture, and discipline they are 
vorse than useless — they are fatal gifts. x 

•But what avails it, gentlemen, if the mind be cultivated to a degree, and 
f its powers be disciplined and restrained, unless it has a proper direction, 
nless all its efforts subserve the purpose of a high and pure morality. 
I ecessary in every country, it is most especially so in oitr Republic, where 
very citizen is an integral part of the government, and aids to put some 

274 Address of Mr. Window. [December 

part of its machinery in motion, and where it is evident our only safety 
lies in the virtue and intelligence of the people. For education without 
the Basis of virtue is positively mischievous. Dangerous is the sharp 
weapon in the hands of him who knows not, or cares not, to control its 
direction. It is to the virtuous and the educated of our people we are to 
look, and upon them to rely for the preservation of our institutions, and 
especially for the maintenance, the honorable maintenance, of that great 
Union in the perpetuation of which rest so much of the happiness of the 
present, and so many of the hopes of the future. That Union about which 
demagogues talk so flippantly, and which fanatics esteem so lightly — that 
delicate Union which cost so much of blood, and toil, and treasure, to 
create, and which like one of those beautiful vases from Eutruria, which 
have descended to us from remote antiquity, once broken into fragments, 
all the craft of the potter cannot restore to its original integrity. Surely, 
then, if but our presence here can add anything, or contribute in any, the 
least degree, to the desirable result, the furthering the cause of thorough 
education in North Carolina, it is good for us to be here. It is the annual 
occasion when our Alma Mater calls from the remotest confines of the 
State her grateful children, to attend her high festival. She is about to 
send forth her fresh swarms of youth to fill the ranks and swell the posts- 
of the Commonwealth. She sends them into the world with her blessings 
and her confidence. She wills us to be present at this august ceremony, 
for august indeed it is. She calls upon us to be here to cheer them with 
our presence, and to animate them by words of kindness and encourage- 
ment. They are soon to take part, for weal or for woe, in the great battle 
of life, for life indeed is but a battle and a march. The honof, the char- 
acter, and the welfare of the State will soon be in their keeping and meas- 
urably under their control. It is an interesting occasion to see youth 
standing upon the threshold of manhood, upon the eve of adventure, of 
contest, and of collision. Willing or unwilling, they are devoted to pro 
gress. They can no more escape it than could the son of Peleus avoid 
taking part in the wars of Troy, hurried onward by an inexorable Nemesis 
But a little while, and they will find themselves amid the din of conflict 
Tbey cannot flee the struggle. The faint-hearted may lag, and the fear 
ful hope to skulk from danger, but there will be for them no retreat. 
Serried crowds will press from behind, and hurry them forward. The 
living tide of time sweeps ever onward. And in the great world whal 
dangers await them ! The corruption and dissipation of the camp is evei 
more hazardous than the exposure of the battle field. Falsehood will b< 
there in the garb of truth. False armed as true glory, like Patroclu 
clothed in the armor of Achilles. Bigotry and superstition will brandisl 
their torches and flaunt their banner to ensnare the thoughtless and mi 


1859.] Address of Mr. Window. 275 

lead the indifferent. Glare and gloss and glitter will be there, to dazzle 
the eye and deceive the senses. We know full well, gentlemen, the diffi- 
culties which will beset them, and we know full well that nought but the 
discipline of moral and intellectual culture can sustain and support them. 
Like the Red Cross Knight, they have a mission to perform, and the ser- 
vice upon which they are sent, must be -executed and as his, so their y only 
safety will be found in the companionship of truth, 

*■ Of heavenly Una and her Milk White Sleed," 
The University has sought to arm these for this contest, by an educa- 
tion whose purposes were the creation of nobleness of character, the de- 
velopment of high and honorable affections, of pure and high morality, 
of a free, and bold, and strong, yet temperate and well governed intellec- 
tual spirit. For these are the attributes of the patriot and Christian gen- 

Our presence here renders the ceremony of the Commencement more 
imposing, and by consequence more impressive, and our Association is 
thus enabled to perform a double duty, the discharge of the debt we owe 
our good mother, and of the obligation due to the State. 

When the Roman youth had reached that period in his life, which en- 
titled him to assume the virile toga, it was the custom of that great people 
to lead him to the forum, and to mark the occasion by appropriate ceremo- 
nies. Among other things, some distinguished citizen was selected, and 
pointed out to him for his admiration, his example, and his emulation. 
There would be no narrow field from which to select, even from the living 
men of North Carolina, some luminous mind to which the eye of the 
graduate might be directed; but propriety might be better consulted by a 
reference to some of those who, although dead, still live in the memories 
of their virtues, and the recollection of their usefulness. Were I called 
upon to name two of our most distinguished dead, who reflected credit 
upon the State, who lived lives of blamelessness and virtue, who exhibited 
in a remarkable degree those traits illustrating the characteristics of North 
Carolina — purity of purpose, stern integrity, and simplicity of character — 
who, in their day, and in their peculiar career, much impressed their 
opinions upon the public mind, and who are fit examples to our youth for 
imitation, I should name Nathaniel Macon and Wm. Gaston. Separated 
by a generation, and yet in a measure contemporaries, and entertaining 
different political opinions, they acquired and retained the respect of the 
whole people, and were justly esteemed the Cato and Cicero of Carolina. 
Without sacrificing a principle, they pursued their separate careers, with- 
out imputation and almost without envy. Macon's influence in giving 
direction to the political system of government was very great, and that 
nfluence still exists. It was perhaps fortunate for Gaston, that his party 

276 Address of Mr. Winslow. [December 

was in the minority, and that necessity thus compelled him to seek dis- 
tinction elsewhere than upon the slippery fields of politics, and to devote 
himself to the arduous duties of a profession, which, while it exacts un- 
ceasing labor and receives inadequate remuneration, never fails moderate- 
ly to reward probity and industry. His death was a serious loss to the 
administration of justice. He fairly deserved the sententious eulogy pro- 
nounced upon him by his distinguished colleague and associate, the Chief 
Justice, that " he was indeed a good man and a good Judge." 

Pointing then the youth of North Carolina to Macon and to Gaston, 
teaching them to venerate their memories, let us exhort them to study 
their characters and to emulate their virtues. 

But, Mr. President, I have been quite too discursive, and I feel that I 
have said little to instruct or entertain you. 

Prudence warns me to conclude. I fear, long since, you have thought 
of my performance as Christopher Sly did of that of the players in Shak- 
speare's Taming of the Shrew : 

" My Lord, you nod. You do not attend to the play." 

" Yes, by St. Anna, I do. A good matter^surely; come, is there any 
more of it ?" 

" My Lord it has but begun." 

"'Tis a most excellent piece of performance ; I would it were over." 

A Tak of the Forest. 277 


Tradition tells a mournful tale 

Of yon deserted hill, 
And yonder cot where wild flow'rs trail, 

And give sweet odor still. 

A hermit came when all was wild, 
And built the cottage there ; 

And with him came a lovely child, 
His fond, his only care. 

Far from the busy haunts of men 

He found a quiet home ; 
Became the forest's denizen, 

And pleasured in its gloom. 

A splendid city gave him birth ; 

And wealth and friends gave bliss ! 
And not a heart in all the earth 

Knew greater joy than his. 

Though rich, he was no pampered son ; 

Though great, he was not proud ! 
He sighed for knowledge, and to none 

His talents ever bowed. 

His mien was noble, and his form 
Was graceful, manly, strong ; 

And though his passions oft beat warm, 
He scorned to do a wrong. 

He loved — he wooed — and not in vain — 
She gave her ha*nd and heart — 

United were the happy twain 
In bands but death can part. 

A little stranger came to bless 

Their happy wedded life- 
Joy to the husband, but no less 

A pleasure to the wife. 

How full of joy the mother seemed ! 

How tender was her press ! 
Her eyes — how lovingly they beamed — 

How soft her hand's caress ! 

The infant, babb'ling forth its joy, 

Knew not the force of love 
That hugged it, kissed it, like a toy, 

And dandled it above. 

278 A Tale oj the Forest. [December 

But scarce a month elapsed ere death, 

With his grim looks had come ; 
He took away the mother's breath, 

And called her to his home. 

No tear the sorrowing husband shed — ■ 

His grief was far too deep ! 
His heart was buried with the dead — 

He could not — could not weep. 

Ere long he gathered up his goods, 

To quit his stately lot ; 
And far he wandered through the woods, 

And built him yonder cot. 

He taught his child in ev'ry lore, 

And schooled her day by day ; 
He showed her whom she must adore, 

And taught her lips to pray. 

Thus nurtured, grew this maiden fair 

As pure and free from guile, 
As was her heart from ev'ry care, 

Or evil from her smile. 

I will not dare describe her form, 

Nor tell you of her face ; 
How beat her heart with passions warm, 

How exquisite her grace. 

Her father's care, her father's pride, 

The darling of his years — 
How sweet his weak'ning steps to guide, 

And quiet all his fears. 

A stranger came, a dark-eyed youth, 

And made their co^his home— 
And he was brave and fair in truth, 

And from afar had come. 

She felt her gladsome soul expand 

While list'ning to his voice ; 
And when he pressed her bashful hand, 

How did her heart rejoice ! 

One summer evening, as they strayed 

Along yon gentle slope, 
He wooed and claimed the lovely maid, 

And dared his heart to ope. 

She, blushing, placed her hand in his, 

And whispered: " Yes, I'm thine, 
I have no more to grve than this — 

Naught else I have is mine." 

1859.] A Tale of tlu> Forest. 279 

Oh ! shall I tell how this poor child 

Gave all her heart away ! 
And how, when love was beating wild, 

She learned to go astray ? 

And how the youth betrayed her trust, 

And whispered her to wait ?- 
And how, when he had fed his lust, 

He left her to her fate ? 

She felt a mother's pangs, but oh ! 

She felt no mother's joy ; 
She knew that shame, and grief, and woe, 

Would hover 'round her boy. 

Too late her father knew her shame, 

Yet gave he no rebuke — 
She heard from him no word of shame, 

But oh ! that look — that look ! 

None know nor how, nor when they died ; 

None ever saw them more — 
But when they searched the cot, they spied 

A room all stained with gore. 

They searched the cottage all around, 

No spot escaped their aim, 
The hermit and his child they found, 

And him, the son of shame. 

On yonder hillock's brow they stopped 

To dig a deep, wide tomb ; 
And silently the dead were dropped 

Into their last, long home. 

At eventide three forms are seen 

Near the lone cot to stray ; 
They dance awhile upon the green, 

Then slowly glide away. 

280 Precept and Example. [December 


The following incident was sometime ago related in our hearing : A 
fond mother was endeavoring to instruct her youthful boy with regard to 
the creation of our first parents. She told him that GrOD made a deep 
sleep to come upon Adam, and while he slept, He took a rib out of his 
side, wherewith He made WOMAN. The young scholar looked anx- 
iously and inquiringly into his mother's eyes and said : " Mudder, what 
did Dod sew him up wid?" This profoundly impressed us with the idea 
that God has implanted in the bosom of every one an innate desire for 
knowledge, even for its own sake ; for knowledge is valuable for its own 
sake, and it is the food of the human mind, and expands the soul and ena- 
bles it to attain to those God-like proportions which distinguish man from 
"the dumb driven cattle," and gives him power over them. This inward 
craving after truth is repressed by indolence and habits of superficial in- 
vestigation, too often the result of imperfect training. It must afford a 
secret satisfaction to all to be able to say, " I know f! and, upon the dis- 
covery of a hidden truth, particularly, if it seemed to be about to elude 
their grasp, they are ready to exclaim in the language of the ancient Bard : 
" Felix, quipotuit rerum cognoscere causas." 

When anything new or unusual is, for the first time, presented to our 
view, we almost instinctively inquire, whence it is ? why it is ? and for 
what purpose it is ? and these inquiries remain unanswered, simply be- 
cause we feel indisposed to make the necessary exertions, which indispo- 
sition is very much strengthened by habits of superficial investigation, on 
account of which the mind loses confidence in itself, and seldom, if ever, 
reaches a definite conclusion. To gratify this inborn desire for knowledge, 
man is so constituted as to be able to derive knowledge from everything 
around him — finds " tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, ser- 
mons in stones, and good in everything." Every nerve and organ of 
sense is an inlet to the soul, by which it communicates with the external 
world. But man has not only been endowed with the capacity of receiv- 
ing knowledge, he has also been gifted with the power of imparting it to 
others : 

" Thought, too, delivered, is the more possessed : 
Teaching, we learn, and giving, we receive." 

If it is pleasant for ourselves "to know," it cannot surely be less pleas- 
ing to instruct. It is not only a pleasure]; but every one must feel that it 
is an exalted privilege, that he has the ability and the opportunity of 
making those with whom he is associated better, happier, and wiser. The 

1859 3 Precept and Example. 3&J. 

•traffic in knowledge, so to speak, is one of mutual benefit. It is a labor 
of love which, results in good, and brings no sorrow with it. It is, em- 
phatically, the most ennobling pursuit in which it is possible for man to 
be engaged ; although " to be wise/' some say : 

"Tis but to know how little can be known 
To see others faults and feel our own." 

Yet to be able to say "I know" is sweet to the soul. Knowledge is 
useful : 

" Youth it instructs, old age delights, 

Adorns prosperity, and when 

Of adverse fate we feel the blights 

'Twill comfort and solace us then." 

But we wish to speak somewhat of the methods of instruction. These, 
it seems to us, naturally arrange themselves under two heads : Precept 
and Example; or, in other words, Theoretical and Practical Methods. 
Theories, no matter how nicely spun, are often dry and uninteresting, un- 
less they are addressed to systematic and abstract thinkers. There is not 
enough of tangibility about them for common minds ; and although they 
may labor strenuously to grasp them, yet it is often done with the convic- 
tion that they are catching at airy phantoms — something entirely beyond 
their reach. Hence, the difficulty of influencing the mind permanently 
in this way becomes apparent; but "precept upon precept" is necessary 
to produce a lasting impression. In teaching a young tyro the simple 
tables of Arithmetic, it is often very difficult to give him, theoretically, a 
clear idea of the distinctions and relations which exist among gills, pints, 
quarts, &c. ; but let him see these measures, examine them, and transfer 
the contents of one into another, and he is not only delighted with the 
operation, but the truth is almost indellibly impressed upon his mind, and 
needs but little repetition to fix it forever there. Hence, from the very 
nature of our constitution, we instinctively desire ocular living demon- 
strations of facts presented to our minds. It is now a subject of almost 
universal remark, that mankind generally are much more powerfully ap- 
ealed to by means of demonstrative facts, than by «an exhibition of ab- 
itract truths. We are much more deeply affected by being an eye-witness 
if some tragical scene, than we are by listening to a recital of it, no mat- 
er how truthfully, forcibly, and eloquently it may be related. And it is 
n this principle in our constitution, we think, that the greatest and best 
f all rules is founded : " As ye would that men should do unto you, do 
e also unto them." Hence, " according to the spirit of our example," 
e may legitimately infer what treatment we may reasonably expect from 
lose around us. If we are mild, kind, generous, and confiding, we may 

Ipect a reciprocacy of good offices ; but if we are morose, unprincipled, 
lfish, and ready to doubt every one's fidelity, we may expect to be real 

282 Precept and Example, [December 

Ishmaelites — our hands against every man, and every man's hand againefc 
us. Jehovah in his dealings with his chosen people, often, it seems to 
us, impressed on their minds the truthfulness of his precepts and declar- 
ations by visible manifestations of his mighty power. So, when his pro- 
phet was sent to declare his threatening denunciations against them for 
their sins — to tell them of the destruction of their favorite city, Jerusa- 
lem, and to urge them to repentance, he went through all the formalities, 
endured all the privations which befall those reduced to the last extremity 
by a besieging army. By means of the eye, the heart may be powerfully 
affected, and tears unbidden made to roll. Eve, by her example, prevail- 
ed on Adam to eat the forbidden fruit. No doubt he would have refused 
to comply with her request, if she had entreated him with words simply ; 
but when he saw her eat and seemingly suffer no harm, he went straight- 
way and did likewise, and plunged himself and posterity into remediless 
ruin, so far as man's agency was concerned. It is not that man who de- 
claims most eloquently against vice and error, and reasons most profound- 
ly and acutely, who is the most successful champion of truth; while he is, 
at the .same time, loose in his morals and seemingly regardless of the ex- 
ample he sets ; but it is that man, although his voice may never be heard 
amid the clamorous contentions of angry debate, whose consistent walk 
and blameless life show " his faith by his works," giving the lie to black- 
hearted calumny, who preaches most effectually. His example appeals 
most powerfully to the heart of every one— wins by its unaffected modesty 
and simplicity — and as the swiftly gliding stream which bears on its bosom 
every thing that comes within its reach, and widens as it approaches its] 
great reservoir, " old ocean's gray and melancholy waste," so he attracts 
crowds of admirers around him, more and more as years pass away, and 
bears them silently and insensibly along with him in his virtuous course. 
When we wish to steel the youthful mind against the vice of drunkenness 
we do not simply give him a long abstract dissertation on its sinfulness 
its expensiveness, and tell him of the misery produced by indulging th 
appetite in this manner, but we show him the grogshop — that pest-hous 
of countless woes, full of sottish inebriates — and the atmosphere aroun 
which, if it were possible, would be made black by the blasphemous ei 
pressions which issue from its walls. We show him the drunkard, wallow 
ing in his self-accumulated filth — the deserted cottage — the delicate wii 
once blooming with youth and beauty, but now haggard, pale and feeb 
from anxiety and want, whose squalid and ragged children are implorin 
ly crying to her for bread, and she has none to give them. Such a scei 
as this speaks trumpet-tongued in his ears with an eloquence, a power, aif 
a pathos of expression, in comparison with which, language the most bea 
tiful and potent in meaning is mute, giving 

1859.] Precept and Example. £88 

*' No utterance to the ineffable within." 
The undaunted souls of ancient Sparta fully understood the importance of 
instructing their children by example. If memory does not mislead us, 
they were accustomed to make their slaves drunk in the presence of their 
children, in order that they might have a living demonstration of the evil 
effects of drunkenness, so that their eyes might affect their hearts and en- 
gender a determined and resolute spirit of virtuous self-denial. In like 
manner, when we wish to incite an individual to pursue a virtuous course 
of action — to instil into him a noble and self-sacrificing spirit, we point 
him to some- bright exemplar, and say to him : See that man, study his 
character, and imitate his example. This is the method of instruction 
which the father of Horace so successfully adopted in educating the youth- 
ful poet, and to which this gifted son of song in his maturer years refer- 
red with feelings of the most profound regard and heart-felt gratitude. 
And this is nothing more than availing ourselves of the means which our 
Creator has plaeed in the hands of every one, to a greater or less degree. 
Mankind, generally, are imitative ereatures ; and, we think, we would not 
be hazarding much, if we should say, that if they were required to give a 
reason for nine-tenths of the acts they ordinarily perform, scarcely one in 
a hundred would be able to assign any better reason than this : I have 
done so because I saw that such and such a one had done so, and I wished 
to be like him ; for men reason about such things pretty much in this 
manner, and we seldom find an individual who has not a very good opin- 
ion of his own abilities in respect to some things — at least. Such and such a 
one has, I see, done this thing well j he has done good in so doing, and ac- 
quired honor, &c. Now, he is a man of no extraordinary ability, and 
since he has accomplished so much, I am not able to see any reason why 
I cannot do the same thing, if I try, as well, or even better than he has 
done it; for we have been told often times that " what has been done can 
be done again," and " where there is a will there is a way." By this means 
and on account of this principle implanted in our nature, a strong emula- 
tion is aroused — a self-independent and determined spirit is engendered 
by which enterprises are undertaken and successfully accomplished, which 
otherwise might never have been thought of. Beautiful theories may be 
set forth with all the winning powers of eloquence, clothed in all the va- 
ried richness and beauty which language can bestow, yet they too often 
fall upon the ears of the multitude, like drops of rain upon the flinty 
rock, and make but little impression. The indolent and careless will not 
iced them, and the self-constituted wise men will shake their heads with " a 
snowing look" and say, all that does very well to talk about, but to do it 
s quite another thing, and by far the most important of all. 
While the method of instructing by example seems to us to be the moat 

284 Precept and Example. [December 

natural, it cannot fail in exerting a very marked and healthful influence 
upon the whole human race ; since it can be easily accommodated to the 
capacity of every one, in all conditions of life : yet, there are some rela- 
tions in life, in which its effects are more strikingly seen and its powers 
more vividly manifested than in others, and under circumstances in no 
condition of life, can it produce more happy results than in that of the 
domestic circle. It is here that we see the truth and feel the force of the 
old adage — " As is the father, so is the son." The following fable illus- 
trates the point in hand, and it will, to many of our readers, recall to mind 
many pleasing associations connected with their first attempts to read 
Latin: " Cancer dicebat filio : Mi fili y ne sic obliquis semper gressibus in- 
cede, sed recta via pergel Cut ille, Mi pater, fespondit, libenter tuis prse- 
ceptis obsequar, si te prius idem focientem videro." From this we learn^ 
that the example of parents has a much more powerful influence in form- 
ing and developing the characters of their children, than any precept can 
possibly have ; for children implicitly confide in the kindness and wisdom 
of their parents and wish to become like them, and think their example is 
a sufficient authority to warrant them in pursuing any course of conduct, 
and are often observing and imitating their example, when their parents 
may be altogether unconscious of it. We were very forcibly reminded of 
the truth of this last remark, not a great while ago, on seeing a worthy ex- 
Professor of a neighboring college returning from divine service one Sab- 
bath evening, leading his little daughter by the hand, a girl of not more 
than three or four summers, and who observed the utmost exactitude in 
keeping the step with her father, whose mind, perhaps, was wholly en- 
grossed with things of a very different nature ; for he must have been 
unconscious of the efforts which his little daughter was making, or else 
he would have surely relieved the youthful pedestrian of much of her dif- 
ficulty by accommodating his steps to the length of hers. Since soeiety is 
a connected whole, in which each individual member has his appropriate 
place assigned him and his duties marked out, every one, from tender 
youth to extreme old age, by his example leaves an impress for good or 
for evil upon those around him. " No man," says an elegant writer, 
" leaves the world in all things such as he found — every man whom he 
meets, much more whom he moulds and governs becomes the more happy 
or the more wretched, the better or the worse, according to the charactei 
of his spirit and example — nor can he strip himself of this influence — i: 
he flee away from the society of his fellows, he leaves behind him thj 
example of neglected duty and the memory of disregarded love, to curs 
the family he has abandoned — and his cords remain wherever he was oncJ 
known, sending home to the hearts that twined around him, sorrow anj 
pain." If these things are so, it behooves us all to consider our waj 

1859.] Precept and Example. 285 

and be wise, ere it be too late. It is certainly a very solemn reflection, 
whicb uiust come borne to tbe heart of every right thinking man, that 
there is a very strong probability that every act of each individual is like^ 
ly to produce a result whose effects will be felt throughout all time, and 
tend to make the condition of some fellow being better or worse through- 
out the ceaseless ages of eternity. It is not only wrong in theory, but it 
is also pernicious in practice, for any one, no matter what his condition in 
life may be, to assert that his example has no influence. From the very 
nature of our constitution, and the relations which each individual sus- 
tains to society, as a whole, such a thing could not be the case. Our ex- 
ample is bound to exert an influence for good or for evil. Every mem- 
ber of society should, then, feel his individuality ; for there is a responsi- 
bility — yes, a weighty responsibility — resting upon every son and daughter 
of Adam — a responsibility which they cannot shift in their vain attempts 
to ease their consciences by saying, that they have no influence — that no 
one follows their example. If it is true, as Horace says, " Nescit vox 
missa reverti," for a much stronger reason we may say, that when an act 
is once done, it is done forever, and will be followed by its appropriate 
result, regardless of our wishes and attempts to the contrary; for words 
are but blossoms, but deeds are the real fruit : 

" 'Tis thus the spirit of a single mind 
Makes that of multitudes take one direction, 
As rolls the water to the breathing wind ;" 

for " example hastens deeds to good effects/' and " excites the mind to 
thread the paths of praise." 

286 jfariaw. [December 



" Ernest !" The speaker was a dark-eyed girl with jetty ringlets shad- 
ing an intellectual face. The sparkling light of her bright eye spoke plainly 
of courage, energy, and a heart to act as well as to suffer. She was ni t 
beautiful, if beauty consists in regular features and a glowing color, but 
there was an expression in her countenance that attracts more than beauty. 
The soul that shone through her dark eyes was pure and noble, and as 
Ernest Mansfield gazed on her, he thought of some divinity enshrined in 
human form, before whom he might fall down and worship. 

" Ernest, I cannot," she said proudly. Sadly it is true, and one who 
heard those soft, yet decisive words, might have felt they were true. 

" And why not, Marian ?" 

" I have told you once, Ernest. Shall I repeat it again ? I cannot be 
dependent on my uncle. I cannot live at Fair Lawn, knowing that I shall 
be unwelcome. For what has God given us strength of mind and body, 
if we are not to use it aright?" 

" But, Marian, your uncle has offered you a home ; will you refuse it 
and go out in the cold and heartless world alone ?" 

A sad smile rested on her pale features. Was it a foreshadowing of 
her dreary future ? 

" Not alone, Ernest. My mother and sister will, at least, remain the 
same," replied she firmly. 

" But think how little used you are to toiljjdear Marian ; and then your 
friends will not respect you as much as if you were — " 
* " A poor dependant 1" 

The young man blushed as he replied, " why no, Marian ; not exactly. 
Mr. Harris would consider you as a child." 

" Never ! His wife and daughter would scorn their poor relatives. 
"Would you have me endure that, Ernest ? I greatly prefer to work for 
my mother and myself." 

"And Anna?" 

" She went South this afternoon, with Mr. Dayton. It was so sudden 
and unexpected, or I would have told you before. He offered many in- 
ducements for her to go. You know she is frail, and we thought the 
southern breeze would bring back the roses to her cheek. I am going to 

B next week to make arrangements to take my mother there, and to 

secure scholars in painting and music. I think I shall like my new home 
very much." 

u Marian," the young man replied, taking her little hand in his own, 

1859.] Mwrum. 287 

" you know I love you, and in two years you have promised to be my wife. 
If T could without dishonoring the-memory of the dead, I would take you 
to my heart and home, where a breath of care should never visit your 
heart ; but you know the promise we gave your dying father. Shall we 
break it, Marian ?" 

" Never ! never !" said the noble girl. " I would fly from your pres- 
ence should you indulge such a thought for a moment." 

" Then how can I persuade you to accept your uncle's kind offer ? — To 
remain with him until I can offer you a heart and a home." 

" Dear Ernest, do not try to change my resolution. Do you not desire 
my happiness ? Would you have me endure scorn, which would break 
my heart, or live humbly, obscurely, in peace, awaiting for the time to 
come, when I could find happiness with you ?" 

Ernest Mansfield felt the force of her words, but pride would not listen. 
A cloud seemed to rest darkly on his handsome face. He could not be 
willing for Marian, his affianced bride, to leave the splendid home where 
her life had been so free and happy, for a life of toil, and yet pride prompt- 
ed his objections. He knew well Marian could not be happy in her uncle'g 
home. Marian Clyde understood his thoughts and she replied : 

11 Ernest, I did expect derision from some, and I knew many would not 
appreciate my motives, but from you I expected encouragement, as I turn- 
ed from my beautiful home to a life of toil." 

One impatient word, uttered quickly by Ernest Mansfield, caused Ma- 
rian Clyde's face to vie with the rose in color, and she replied to him while 
the pearly tear drops stood in her eyes. 

" Ernest, you are free. You do not understand me. I would not dark- 
en your pathway by any act of mine. Here is your ring. Beside the 
little brook that murmurs out there near my father's grave, you placed it 
on my finger. I promised then to love you through life. This promise I 
shall keep. In the fair spring days of life, love bloomed in my heart — 
never again will another flower of love bloom there." 

She offered him the ring. He refused. 

'^Marian, I do not want the ring. I love you. I promised your father 
to love you through life. Will you cast this love away from you, my own 
Marian, will you 1" 

" 'Will I cast it away V ! Ernest it is not I who would cast from my 
heart its sunlight, its joy — but you are free. Let not the promise to the 
dead bind you. I release you from your engagement, with the fervent 
wish that blessings may rest on your head, as bright and beautiful as ever. 
While Marian Clyde lives you will have one friend to love you." 

While uttering these words, she arose from her seat, advancing to the 
astonished young man she gave him her hand. He thought he had never 

288 Marian. [December 

Been her half so lovely. " Farewell, Ernest ! Perhaps we may never 
meet again. And now let me tell you that I have loved you as few 
hearts love in this world, and you do not doubt it." 

Before he could reply, she was gone, and Ernest Mansfield sat there in 
the still twilight with a sad heart. He could not think clearly. All seemed 
like a troubled dream, except that Marian Clyde had left him forever. He 
thought of her as the bright-eyed girl, he had so loved when a child ; 
when timid and reserved to others, she had been to him as a ray of sun- 
shine, lighting up the dark hours of his life, and making him feel as if, 
after all, there was something good in human nature. He thought of her 
in her beautiful home, surrounded with every thing calculated to give 
happiness— a fond father, an affectionate mother and sister. He saw her 
beside her dying father, and heard her promise to be the support of her 
mother and sister, to sustain them in their great sorrow ; and he remem- 
bered how faithfully she had fulfilled this promise. 

Then another trial came for Marian. By the failure of a bank they 
were reduced to poverty. Not even Hill Side, their own sweet home, was 
saved ; and henceforth Marian Clyde was homeless. And here shone forth 
her true heart. She would not sit idly down and yield to despair, but 
with a strong heart she would live for those who loved her; and Ernest 
Mansfield felt then, in the calmness of that hour, that never again could 
he win such a heart. He thought not, when he entered that room, that 
he would go forth alone in heart — yes, alone, for Marian's bright image 
had lived for years in his heart as his own, entirely, sacredly. He wrote 
a few words on a card, and directed a servant to give it to Miss Clyde. 

Marian was in her room, her head bowed slightly, and resting on her 
delicate white hands. The crimson blushes were still lingering on her 
pale fa3e, and in her eyes were tears — not idle tears — she knew not what 
they meant — but the bitter tears wrung from woman's heart, when she has 
trusted her life, her love, with one, and has found that cherished idol — 
clay. The servant handed her the note. Once again the full tide of 
memory swept over her heart, and she remembered the Ernest of other 
days, so noble, so good ; and — he would see her again. She remembered 
a few weeks had changed her from the admired artist-heiress, to the Ma- 
rian of the present. She arose frbm her seat and gathered up the mementoes 
of his love, a beautiful album, a ring, gilded books and faded flowers, and 
•placing them together, sent them to him. One little rose-bud she kept, 
a pale, withered thing, a fit emblem of her hope and love ; and as that 
•rose-bud threw forth from its dying leaves a fragrant perfume, though 
withered and dead, so would Marian's bve make her life beautiful and 
good. She placed this rose-bud away, with her cherished treasures, and it 
"Was dearer to her than the fairest flower that bloomed at Hill Side , 

1859.] Marian. 289 

Then sitting down she wept as woman only can. 

Ernest Mansfield left the parlor at Hill Side, where he had spent the 
happiest hours of his life. Together over the fields and woods around that 
lovely place, he had wandered with Marian, teaching her the lessons of 
wisdom conned from Nature's volume, and guiding her artist eye from 
one beautiful scene to another, knowing that soon those glowing -landscapes 
would decorate the parlor at Hill Side. But never again would he wan- 
der there with her. Afar from those beautiful scenes his life must be 
passed, and well did he learn on that evening the life lesson that many 
learn sooner than he did — that the misery or happiness of life depends 
often on one action, a thoughtless one, perhaps, a single word uttered light- 
ly, a thought scarcely breathed forth, but imprinting itself on the counte- 
nance — the mirror of the soul. 

And soon after Marian Clyde, with a sad yet resigned heart bade a final 
adieu to her childbood's home, and with her mother retired to the sweet 

little village of A , where she had secured many scholars in painting, 

an art to which for years, in her own sunny home she had applied herself 
with enthusiasm. Her father, who now was sleeping in the dust, had 
afforded her every advantage for acquiring proficiency in the study. Proud 
of her talent, he wished her to excel, not thinking that the time would 
come when she would be dependant on that accomplishment, for he 
thought, even when death was very near, that in two years she would be 
the wife of his ward, Ernest Mansfield, and he had obtained from him a 
promise to complete his college course before he should ask the hand of 
Marian, and it was this promise that kept Ernest from asking Marian to 
share his own beautiful home, a few miles from Hill Side. 

Marian's home was humble, but very beautiful. The honeysuckle 
twinad its sweet tendrils around the lattice by the door, and roses and 
lillies bloomed as brightly there as at Hill Side. The spring birds sang 
as Meetly as ever, and Marian could but feel the inspiration which Na- 
ture's fairy scenes gives to those who love her, and had not the memory 
of the past haunted her, she might have been happy but the past 

0! Death in Life, the days that are no niore!" 

But Marian could not long sigh — 

" O'er loss of days no more to be, 
Of adieus changed to dreams and dreams to death, 
And then Eternity," 

or life's cares were resting on her and she must work ; nor — 

" Pause not now 
To mourn o'er broken dreams. Such grief is vain." 

290 Marian., [December 


Summer passed away with its glorious beauties and Autumn come and 
went, and dreary winter reigned stern and cold — wrapping bis icy mantle 
around tbe dying year, he sung his mournful dirge. "While the winter 
winds wailed aroudd Marian's humble home, and still she toiled on in 
her studio. Warm-hearted friends encouraged her, and soon she found 
more real pleasure in being useful than in living for pleasure alone. One 
morning Marian sat in her room with one of her pupils. She was think- 
ing of the joys of the " olden times " when Nellie said — 

" Miss Marian, will you be at home on Saturday morning?" 

" I guess so; why?" 

" My cousin from M wishes, with your permission, to call on yon 

at thit time. He has heard so much of you, and your beautiful pictures 
he wishes to see you, and to examine your pictures. He has just return- 
ed from a visit to Europe, and he is so fond of musie and painting. May 
he come ?" 

" Certainly, Nellie. What is his name ?" 

" Mr. Mansfield. Hemember, Miss Marian, to-morrow at eleven o'clock 
we will come. Good bye," and her favorite scholar was gone. 

Mrs. Clyde found Marian an hour after, sitting before her easel in the 
same attitude that Nellie had left her almost as unmovable, as unconscious, 
as the form she was tracing on the canvass. In that one hour she had 
lived over years of light and joy, and then succeeding months of darkness, 
till light was coming again. 

" Why do I find yon in tears, Marian ? I had hoped you were becom- 
ing again my bright, joyful child." 

" Mother, Ernest Mansfield is coming here to-morrow. Do you wonder 
I weep over the recollections of bye gone days ? He will not let me find J 
rest even here. He has all the advantages the world so much esteem, 
why does he seek the obscure retreat poverty has left me ?" 

" Fe. - haps he does not know that the Miss Clyde he is seeking is the 
Mar'aa of other days. You know there are many of that name." 

" How strangely suspicious I am growing. I imagined he was coming 
through curiosity to see how we are supporting the change from affluence 
to po". e ty ; to try to perceive the difference in me since I became the pco; 
artist instead of the artist-heiress but I will meet him calmly. I canno 
forget that though we are to meet as strangers now, he was once the ido 
of my heart, and woman never looks indifferently on the man she hasonci 
^,vcd, but I will try to forget ; but will not the tears gather to my eye 
as I hear his voice again ? I do not love him. He has crushed to th 

1859.] Marian- 291 

very dust that flower of confidence — his truth, his honor, all the generou 
principles I though he possessed, all are gone ! Yet I cannot look upon 
him coldly as I do others." 

A. long time Marian Clyde sat there in the still twilight calm, till the 
twinkling stars shone forth in the blue sky like jewels, and then she re- 
tired to her room, free to commune with her own heart. Her thoughts 
were for no human eye to read — a sealed page to the world. 

On the next morning no trace of emotion rested on her fair rounded 
cheek. She employed herself for some time in arranging their simple 
furniture in the most becoming style. Her splendid piano, which alone 
Wets left her from the wreck of her father's property, stood open in the 
small parlor, which answered the double purpose of sitting room and par- 
lor. Around the walls were her beautiful landscape paintings, and a few 
portraits that she had painted of her early friends — those who used to 
gather around the old hearthstone at Hill Side — these she knew would 
speak to his heart of the " sunny past" — the golden hours of their young 

On a table lay a few volumes of poems. Flowers, beautiful and rare, 
the offerings of her pupils, filled the room with the sweetest perfume. 
Every thing was simple, but arranged with the exquisite taste which marks 
such minds as Marian Clyde's ; and this little apartment gave an idea of 
home comfort of which few magnificent parlors can boast. Marian took 
unusual care in the selection of her attire. Her cheeks were pale, but her 
eye bright as in the past. When she knew he was there in her own 
humble home, the roses never were of a brighter red than her cheeks ; 
but with the dignity of a queen, blended with the ease and grace which 
had so distinguished her in the homes of the great, she entered the room 
and received a formal introduction to Ernest. The color fled for one mo- 
ment from his handsome face as he saw his friend, but soon they were 
conversing pleasantly, as if their hearts had never known a care. By his 
request she led him to her studio, and there he felt she had not applied 
herself in vain to the " art divine." 

" ! cousin Ernest," whispered blue-eyed Nellie, " let Miss Marian 
paint your portrait for me, and you shall have a place in our best parlor.'' 

"Indeed, cousin, I fear Miss Marian will refuse ; besides, I do not know 
that I wish to occupy a place in your best parlor. But ask Miss Marian." 

Marian did not wish to comply with any request that would place her for 
any time in the company of Ernest, yet she could not refuse without reveal- 
ing the buried past. 

So it was all arranged. The gentleman artist at A. drew the outlines 
of the picture, as he did for others, but it was for Marian's brush to pro- 
duce the glowing colors on the canvass. The portrait progressed rapidly, 

292 Marian. [December 

for she -wished it done, so that this dream, this living for hours in his pre- 
sence, who had once been so dear, might pass away. Sometimes he would 
call and spent an hour with her. They conversed long and earnestly, but 
it was only as strangers learn to speak. No allusion to the past was heard, 
no word uttered by which strangers could have known that they had ever 
met before. They spoke of Nature, her varied and beautiful works — of 
travels in foreign lands — of the glowing sunset scenes of Italy — the clear 
lakes of Switzerland — of every thing except themselves; and yet a strange 
earnest glance rested on Marian's face, as he said to her one day : 

"Miss Clyde, are you happy? You seemed so to speak just now. Is 
it the love of this beautiful art which fills your soul with enthusiasm, and 
makes you forget the trials that gather around the children of earth ?" 

" Happy, Mr. Mansfield ? In every house you know ' there is a skele- 
ton/ an unearthly spectre that haunts the home of all. In every heart, 
beneath the joy that shines around, there is a sorrow. I am not an ex- 
ception. Yet I have learned from care and sorrow, the vanity of earthly 
pleasures, and the exceeding rich reward there is in trusting our happi- 
ness to that Divine Providence, who guideth our feeble steps through 

Ernest Mansfield drew nearer to Marian, and as Nellie left the room, 
he said: 

"Miss Clyde— Marian — may I speak to you of the past?" 

" Why trouble the waters of the mournful past, Mr. Mansfield ? For 
years they have been resting peacefully. Why disturb them now Ernest ?" 

u That confidence may be restored to your heart, and joy to mine, Ma- 
rian, as in the beautiful days of youth. Will you not forgive me for those 
cold and thoughtless words, repented of as soon as spoken ? I little 
thought they would sever our hearts, Marian. And if suffering can atone 
for wrong, you are fearfully avenged. Let their memory, then, fade from 
your heart, and let my life of devotion repay you for their cruel sting. I 
came for this alone, to ask your pardon, and to implore you, by the mem- 
ory of our early love, to be my bride." 

" Ernest, cease. ! do not mention the blissful days of the past; they 
rend my heart. I cannot be your bride, Mr. Mansfield. I did love you; 
but can the warm breath of Spring reanimate the flower that is already 
faded and dying? Will it not lie all low with its mother earth? From 
the first love of an enthusiastic girl to the calm indifference of a wronged 
woman, I passed in that one moment, while you uttered those words which 
revealed the dread idea that you would be ashamed of your chosen one. 
Since then, Ernest, I have not suffered my heart to dwell on human love. 
You were the image of all good to me, and the cruel stroke which crushed 
in my heart the brightness of love, laid all enthusiasm and trust low iu 

1859.] Marian, 293 

the dust. Henceforth, then, alone I shall walk in my weary life-path, 
and you will find another bride. The world will honor you, and you may 
perhaps be happy." 

Nellie Sawyer returned, and soon after, with her, Ernest left Marian's 

And Anna Clyde, in her sunny home in the South, received a letter 
from Marian ; and though her heart was full of love and happiness, as 
she wandered through fah'y scenes beside purling brooks and vine clad 
bowers, and listened to fond, loving words from a noble heart, she paused 
to shed a tear for the self-sacrificing sister she had left at home. 

" Ernest is gone, sister. This day dream has faded away. I have just 
finished the last stroke. Anna, to-day he spoke of love — of his love — re- 
called the days of pleasure, when we were at Hill Side. Can it be that 
he really loved me ? ! that I knew. You see that I am weak, when I 
yield to memory's power, but when I remember the scene in our old par- 
lor, and when again in my imagination I hear his low earnest voice pro- 
nouncing cruel words — words which seemed to burn my heart, and make 
me forget every thing good and remember only evil and wicked things, I 
knew it could not be true love — such love as I had for him then — which 
would have prompted me to have blessed my fate, could I have followed 
him in adversity ; if need be, to the far off western wilds, and there lived 
for him alone. For you sister Anna and our noble mother this life shall 
be passed, and for the sorrowing, who pass along with their hearts full of 
sadness amid the young and gay, like spectres white and ghostly amid the 
living; and when I fade from earth, a 1 ome in heaven, a grave at Hill 
Side, a tear from you and my mother, and a thought from Ernest, in his 
hours of sadness, is all that I ask." 

And thus Marian's life-star set. No gleaming light from afar came to her 
as an earnest of peace and joy yet to come. The change was too sudden, 
the chill swept over her very heart-strings, and no ray of love could kin- 
dle there its holy flame. Yet she could not forget. Memory, faithful to 
her trust, would bring again the joys of the past — a flower that sprang 
along her pathway, scenting the evening gale — a sweet strain of music, 
heard long ago, then half-forgotten — a summer landscape, smiling in glo- 
rious beauty — all would bring to her weary heart, her youth, her love, her 
lonely, dreary life, and she would often sigh for the Lethean stream, that 
she might forget. 

But should Marian Clyde die of grief? Around her on every side 
were the sick, the sorrowing — those who, like her, were dreaming " over 
broken vows" — the poor, with "their yoke and their song" — and the child 
of care who could not look, as Marian Clyde did, to an eternal rest "be- 
yond the river." Should she not live fox these? — to show that there is 

2&4 Marian. [December 

an inner life that will make our actions pure and blessed — the life of the 
soul that will view death as only the Saturday night of life, ushering in 
the beautiful day dawn of everlasting bliss ? 

Years have passed by since then, circling years of changes to all. They 
have plaeed lines here and ther on Mrrian's brow. Silver hairs intermin- 
gle with the jetty tresses that shade her intellectual face. Her sweet 
voice has lost some of its power, and it is now soft and low. Her step is 
not so light as when she wandered around Hill Side, and yet she is not 
old, for the life of the heart is not reckoned by months and years. The 
truly good never grow old, and in Marian's heart there is no decay of its 
best affections, no selfish shrinking back from duty or sympathy with the 
weak and suffering, but with her brightest and best hopes fixed on the 
" better land," with a heart whose winter came even while the spring 
flowers were blooming in freshness and beauty, she is walking calmly, 
faithfully her life path, 

" "Where there's want, or woe or suffering, 

Soothing grief with words of love, 
Where the sorrow-stricken languish, 

Pointing to a seat above." 

To those who know her, her life has been blessed. She has taught by 
example the useful lesson of a consecrated life — made sacred by self-deny- 
ing efforts for the °;ood of others. 

Should Marian read these lines and remember sadly the beautiful days 
of her youth and love, the cloud that came in her early spring-time and 
hid the brightness of her young life, and made her succeeding years, com- 
pared with her first years, as only pale silvery moonlight in contrast with 
the noonday sun — she will pardon one who loves her well, and who has 
long looked to her as an example of all that is good and lovely, for having 
revealed a page of her heart's history, with the humble hope that some cne 
will feel that there is a purity, a sacred influence in a life whose hope is 
in others, whose exertions look out from self to a needy world. 

And Ernest Mansfield — did there come for him the dove of peace to 
nestle in his heart, saddened not by affliction or adversity, but by regret 
and self-reproach ? When he went out from Marian Clyde's humble 
home, the world was before him. In its bustle and weary heart-aching 
honors he could find allurement from sorrow, and yet it was not peaa. 
Where the false-hearted votaries of pleasure sing their syren songs, and 
Fashion holds her unsantified revels, there, as the centre of the giddy 
circle he may be found, the sparkling jest the honeyed words falling from 
his lips. Yet nevei again will such pure pleasure fill his heart as when 
Marian's strong love was his, and she the " light of his eyes," living for 
him as she now does for others — the good, self denying, noble Marian ! 

1859.] A Glance at Logic. 295 



Having been this night elected to the chair of " Criticism on Text- 
books," by the lt W. P. D. Society," it becomes my urgent, though un- 
pleasant, duty to expose some of the prime fallacies of a science by which 
thousands have be^n misled, who had hitherto escaped unhurt by the 
darts of sophistry. And for a full exposition, it is necessary to introduce 
that sad teacher — my own experience. 

I remember well (and to my sorrow) when I formed the acquaintance 
of Logic, the polyglott lady ; for never yet have I been able to learn what was 
her native tongue. It was a sultry afternoon in last July, after a big 
dinner, that I entered the bookstore and with a nonchalance asked for 
"Whateley's Treatise on Logic." Having procured it I returned to my 
room and read, the title-page very knowingly, " Elements of Logic," &c. f 
till my eye reached that "jaw-breaker " of the sixth line, when, scholar- 
like, I hauled down my " Webster;" but alas! the "metropolitana" was 
wanting, and I was left in doubt concerning the very first page of my 
new book. However, my knowledge of Greek was brought to bear upon 
the question, and my mind was soon satisfied that the stranger was 

-composed of metron, a measure, and polls, or politikos, political, public ; and 
by combination the meaning was public, i. e. common measure for the 
comprehension of the common people ; and hence the book must be one of 
equal interest to all ; yet I had my suspicions, for I had heard not a few 
anathemas pronounced on the " boring study " by my predecessors 
Pleased with my etymological attainments, however, I turned to the "In- 
troduction " and after reading a few lines, and overlooking a few incom- 

prehensibles, I stretched my limbs on my "scaffold of delight," as usual, 
and gave a yawn of approval at my first attempt to humbug myself. I 
then examined the mysterious book minutely, well appreciated the thought 
became so interested that I fell asleep, hugging the dear source of my in- 
tellectual pleasure. Had my lot been that of a somnambulist, the world 
would not have lost the glowing, beautiful thoughts that ran through my 
mind, for they would have produced the best essay on Logic ever written 
or dreamed of; and Dr. Whateley may well mourn their loss ! Summoned 
from my slumbers by the five o'clock bell, I hastened to recitation; find- 
ing that my speculations had been continued most too long, and calling 
myself a fool, all the way, for falling in love with such nonsense. (?) My 

loquaciousness on the subject induced Professor to call on me to 

eee if, being in my own element, I had abandoned the modesty of giving 

196 A Glaixct at Logic. [December 

no reply to his questions. " A short horse is soon curried;" and a " tol 
'miter" is more easily "rushed;" for I was completely nonplussed at the 
natural question, "Well, sir, what is logic?" With an imploring look, I 
gazed on the 1st miters, and at the same time muttered — " It is," he says, 
the elements of Metro-encyclo-politana }" a dozen groans drowned my 
cpexegesis, while a " brother-tol," with an idiotic grin, hunched me in 
my side, asking where in the d — 1 I got that long string of " tros," 
" cyclos" and "anas." My anger made me eloquent to no purpose, for a 
smile of the Professor persuaded me that my language was non-logical, 
absurd, fallacious, and most deplorably elliptical. He was sufficiently 
convinced of my ignorance to invite me to my seat ; and after the " cir- 
cus" was over, I bent my footsteps homeward, cogitating deeply the pro- 
priety of cutting short my new acquaintance, and retiring in seclusion ; 
at least, from any thing like that curious text-book. The question was 
decided in favor of my taste ; but like Alexis, the hero of our " French 
Novel," I intended at some future day to avail myself of an opportunity 
to prove " que le noir est blanc," or anglice', that black is white, How 
my intention was fulfilled, can be leaned from 
Scene No. ii. 
One evening (the 23d of August) as I was meditating on my idle course 
in college, my attention was called to a piece of verse entitled "Try, try 
again." Ambition, of a sudden, warmed my soul; and, determined on a. 
change of life, I snatched from the shelf the volume that had last foiled 
my attempts to master it, opened it with a vengeance, and began to read 
what appeared to me the most high-falutin string of broken English ever 
written; (for it's Choctaw to any one who has'nt read the prelude). But 
to my agreeable surprise, on the next page was a poetical quotation; or, I 
fancied it thus, as I was nurtured by the Muses, and used to think at 
" prep" school that I had the " feu sacre" direct from heaven. However, 
Campbell had too truly said, 

" 'Tis Distance lends enchantment to the view ;" 

for on closer inspection the jingle was found wanting, and there was even 
considerable doubt as to its being that most uninspiring of all productions, 
denominated by its authors blank verse — in fact it had too little sublimity 
for verse of any kind; but here it is — you may judge for yourself: 

White is a color, 

Black is a color ; therefore 

Black is white. 
Next, the idea struck me (powerfully, too,) that it must be prose chopped 
off at each end, to humbug somebody ; for I began to think 'twas " hum- 
bug all the way." But it was false certainly in the last line— and prose, 

1859.] J- Glance at Logic. 297 

too — impossible! So, lastly, my conclusion was, that it must be one of 
the author's poor attempts, and a lie " by authority of the poets." On 
the next page, to my chagrin, there was some more of the same sort — a 
la premiere — and that was no poetry, no blank verse, and all independent, 
isolated lies ! A wondering gaze at the name of the author, and a more 
wonderful opinion of his unparalleled thoughts, closed this interview with 
my intellectual tliaumatrope. A few days after, the Professor thinking 
I had sufficiently' recovered from my first logical error, kindly requested 
me to define " Aristotle's Dictum." If he had asked me how long it took 
the " old gentleman" to make whiskey punch, or say his prayers to Jupi- 
ter & Co., T could have come nearer at it, by arguing from the uniformity 
of human nature ; but the " Dictum" was a fact too independent for my 
cause — and — effect turn of mind. Silentia regnat ! Professor, thinking 
my powers of illustration were, perhaps, superior to my powers of defini- 
tion, asked me to give an example of a syllogism. Making a random 
guess that it was something like that " curtailed prose," and elated at the 
idea of improving on my author, I threw my eyes upward, and quoted, in 
a theatrical tone — " He plucked a quill from the wing of an angel, d'.pped 
it in the hues of the rainbow, and wrote" — and here I was stopped by the 
cry, " ! thou born of the Muses, brush the wet off your head," emana- 
ting from a logger-headed confrere, and a smile of contempt from the as- 
tounded Professor. My wounded heart was somewhat healed by tne idea 
of the awful impression I had certainly made as to my extensive informa- 
tion on general subjects, and especially as to my proficiency in remember- 
ing sublime expressions. A seat was my next resort, for I had entirely 
exhausted my supply of syllogisms, in the one memorable quotation, which 
I had learned from hearing my chum (who was in love) repeat it every 
time the moon shone out, or he received a letter from his " duck." I 
had now to choose the alternative of mastering the mysterious work, or 
risking the chances of Professor's recommending me for a bench lower in 
the synagogue. Now you must have guessed, by this time, that I was not 
the boy to mourn over the past, (for in my past, there was always some- 
thing " pleasant," as well as "mournful to the soul,") or to injure my 
health by reading what was not especially appointed for my lessons. 

When the day arrived for my next recitation on logic, I had learned 
enough, by intuition, to understand the purpose for which those nonsensical 
pieces of any-thing-else-than-poetry were intended. But as it happened 
that day, I had to prepare, among a dozen others, the ninety first page. 
Beginning there, I read on indifferently, till I came in contact with-<- 

Light is contrary to darkness, 

Feathers are light ; therefore 

Feathers are contrary to darkness. 

A Glance at Logic. [December 

It was a more than herculean task for my infantile logical mind to straight- 
en this; but the last line was certainly untrue, for if you will come to my 
room any night at half-past ten, I will expose the fallacy by showing them 
quietyly supporting my frame, fatigued by three hours of application to 
something immaterial, (no matter) in both senses of the word ; and I 
take great pride in saying that my premises, or " what is laid down," is 
by no means unduly supported by my bed-tick, on four posts, although 
there is a continual metamorphosis going on in the part where the strength 
lies ; and not uijfrequently I have to introduce an " argumentum adhomi- 
nem" to my friends of the " genus bed-bug." Now, all know the perse- 
vering disposition of a " mite-man," especially on a warm evening; so 
after some desperate efforts, which were lamentably futile, to learn the 
quo-modo of the above syllogism, in the most reckless state of despair, I 
threw my Logic ftom my sight, and on the bed sat down. I now was at 
my last resort, (and one which can soothe all our cares,) so with all the 
ennui of an over-taxed mind, I resigned my frame to the arms of the 
grief-assuaging gentleman. My mental exertions, of course, brought on 
a fever ; and logical visions came clustering 'round my pillow as thick as 
sugar plums did Christmas night, several years ago. You must allow me, 
however, to depict my dream in the last, and remarkable 

Scene No. III. 

Suddenly all around bore the aspect of a sick-room. I was the patient 
and was about to become (I feared) the glorious cause of "a one day's 
snap" to my fellow-students; for the Doctor was there, writing ineffectual 
prescriptions in the form of syllogisms, and repeating after each one the 
trite expression, " now that's logic." In my imagination there was but 
one thing that could effcet a cure, viz : the application of " Aristotle's 
Dictum " to a fallacy which lay in my " undistributed middle ;" and 
the Doctor was very sorry to inform me that his last one had been used 
a few minutes previous in curing a case decidedly more dangerous than 
my own. (Yet, I now believe if he had made a substitute of a mustard 
plaster, he would have succeeded, although my night-supper was compos- 
ed o? only four plates of oystsrs and two of scramble! eggs, " whiskey 
afloating," apropos.) Attendance, however, was by no means wanting; 

for Professor was there, to act as apothecary in mixing doses of 

"barbara," " celarent," &c, to give me temporal ease until the Doctor 
could have his other prescriptions filled. One after another was tried in 
vain, till the Doctor having determined to " kill or cure " ordered a gawky 
looking " Major-term on two sticks" to take the sarcasm from the middle 
of that " particular affirmative," cut off the predicate of a " universal neg-f 
ative/' mix it with the fallaciate of Hume's argument against miracles, f 

1859.] A Glanee at Logic. 299 

dissolve the whole in half a pint of sophistry, and hand it to Prof. 

to be administered. The order was promptly obeyed, but when Professor 

reached out his hand to take it, the impudent " term on two sticks " 

threw the dose in my face, and crying out "illicit process of the major!" 
I awoke from my revery, and discovered that the whole vision was pro- 
duced by my chum's reading his lesson " out loud," and his throwing a 
glass of water in my face to stop the interruption of my incessant begging 
for the application of " Aristotle's Dictum." 

My dream is finished. %.j tale is told. And what class I shall be in 
next session no one can tell ; for I haven't seen inside my Logic since, and 
as I never intend to look in one again, you must allow me to give you my 
deductions, by way of a 


in which (they say) a woman's mind is always expressed ; and 

In which, kind reader, I fear you'll find 
The false conclusions of a non-losical mind ; 

viz : In the first place, that logic was made for the most credulous portion 
of the human race ; secondly, that a man of good common sense had as well 
try to keep up the connection in a dictionary ; thirdly, that " humbug " 
beg : ns with its title page and extends as far as I have examined; and 
fourthly, that I will commit it to the flames the next punch-drinking, and 
declare myself one of those cupidi verum novarum. 

Yours truly, William Ichabod, "P. C." 

Of the " % R £ V 

Octobek 31, 1859. 

309 Fanaticism. [December 



Fanaticism is an evil most direful in its effects. With great propriety, 
and with still greater justice, it may be esteemed an immoral vice. The 
term, indicative of blind enthusiasm and excessive zeal, was formerly ap- 
plied to those individuals, who, shutting thenreelves up in temples, there- 
by excluding all communication with the world, were guilty of the most 
immoderate excesses, contrary to reason and bordering on insanity. In- 
deed, so uncontrollable was their zeal, and so inordinate their phrenzy, 
that to inflct pain upon their bodies was considered no violation of the 
law of morality. So devoted were they to their religious infatuation that 
they even tore the flesh from their bodies, or cut themselves with knives, 
indulging in the wildest caprice, and performing the most antic gestures 
imaginable. Such is the reputed origin of this word, as ignominious per- 
haps in the original as that of traitor, or murderer, is at the present day, 
and, such as it now is deserves no better name thay that of madness. 

That fanaticism is an evil, the history of all ages prove; that its effects 
have been most disastrous, the dilapidated remnants of once flourishing 
States and Empires assert ; and that its evils are prevalent and destructive, 
the gross excesses and maddening folly of the present day testify. He 
who is a fanatic, is blind to danger and open to attack. The space in 
which he aets is covered over the surface with roses of beautiful growth, 
but beneath the thorns and briars lie — the invective remonstrances of an 
aggravated public, who in vain attempt to check his mad career. Thought- 
less, he travels the prairie-fields of enthusiasm, while the weeds of disas- 
ter close in his path, leaving no hope for return. He is confident of suc- 
cess, for in the broad expanse before him no obstacles appear to stop him 
in his course. He hastens, invigorated by expectation, blinded by imag- 
ination, and deluded by infatuation ; but at the moment his capricious fancy 
seems to be converted into reality, the sun of disappointment looms before 
him to shame that heated glow of imagination, which his maddening 
phrenzy had fancied a " star of hope," and force it to resume its primeval 
state — a flickering taper, soon to be extinguished in the whirlwinds of 

Fanaticism, like the rushing mountain-torrent, overrunning every obsta- 
cle in its hurried course, rushing onward with resistless force, wasting at 
every step, and hastening every moment nearer the level plain, where its 
strength exhausted, unable to proceed further, it wastes itself away, ex- 
posed to the heating rays of the noon-day's sun. The mind of the fanatic— 

1859.] - Fanaticimi. 301 

not frozen like the mountain torrent — is heated by the fervid glow of im- 
agination, its properties fused, forming a fiery mass, more of madness than 
of reason, and possessing the power of steam, sends the enthusiast forth a 
travelling locomotive, with no prescribed railway, whereon to take his 
course, no monstrous claws in front to "clear the track," no brakes to re- 
tard his downward flight ! His harsh voice, his mighty lungs are amply 
sufficient to attract the attention of all who are concerned for their own 
safety. His clamorous voice is but a mighty whistle, which blows before 
the engine starts, which blows at every station, and which blows when it 
has reached its place of destination. 

The world has already learned what Fanaticism is, and what are its 
connections. It is an evil prevalent with superstition and concomitant 
with infidelity. The- illiterate, wjien once the fire of Fanaticism has en- 
tered their minds, fettered, as it were, by ligatures of madness, from which 
no exertion can free them, arc but as raving maniacs, to whom the world 
seems but a prison, and ali its virtues but iron grates wherewith to curb 
their passions. They know nothing of the standard of morality, so lost 
are they to reason. Joyful they waft the tide, and launching forth upon 
the broad and open seas of .. ...-in, their sails filled with favorable 
breezes, their imagination hei •--. -.d almosti to reality, they buffet the 
stormy waves, and move onward, Le ted with glowing l'aucies of success, 
anticipating the rich reward they are destined never to receive. 

Examples are not wanting in the catalogue of evils to testify the dis- 
asterous results of Fanaticism. N» hjng i> mpve destructive to a nation's 
honor than this accursed evil when exe>v;-ea in behalf of religion. Had 
not Peter the Hermit been roused by a-fanatic ae:., lus imagination pic- 
turing to his mind the wrongs pi the ,.- a/ncl the possibility,. 'of 
gaining the Holy Sepulchre, the bi iod of inillionsjui u have b en spared 
from mingling with that of the i>] islem hei*oea ; and the host of Europe^s 
pride and chivalry would never have been tarnished by sum ring defeat 
from Saracenian arms upon the bloody plains of Palestine. Out the en- 
thusiastic zeal of one man roused to visionary dreams the host of Europe's 
warriors, and Fanaticism — wild and destructive Fanaticism — overspread 
the land, and desolated for two centuries the fairest pride of Christian 
heroism. The Hermit preached ; Pope Urban exhorted ; thousands as- 
sumed the cross ; and while " Deus vuit !" rent the sky, immortal warriors 
gathered around the standard reared for the redemption of the Holy Se- 
pulchre. Indulgences were granted, bulls were issued, proclaiming a 
general crusade, and calling upon the chivalric spirit of the land to rise 
in vindication of the honor of the Saviour. Eight hundred thousand 
warriors responded to the call, and Godfrey, the gallant duke of Lorraine, 
under the favorable auspices of devoted zeal in his Christian followers, 

302 Fanaticism, • [December 

planted the banner of the cross upon the hard-earned battlements of Je- 
rusalem, while, the war cry of the Saracens, once driven from its walls, 
the chants of the Christian soldiers reverberated through the lofty arches 
of the sacred temple ! Their object was accomplished ! — Jerusalem was 
taken ! — the Holy Sepulchre redeemed ! The news of such signal success 
was most propitious in the eyes of the world. They considered it as a 
divine interposition of Providence in their behalf. Their fondest hopes 
were realized, and with this signal success before their eyes, the flames of 
Fanaticism burned brighter and higher. But the vindictive hoard of 
Saladin recaptured the Holy City, and the hand of the Mussulman again 
decked the mighty temple — again he visited the sacred sepulchre. Again 
and again the mustering hosts of Europe battled for the city ; but Mos- 
lem arms were triumphant in the end, and the crusading spirit, hovering 
for two hundred years around the sacred plains of Palestine, and linger- 
ing with fond devotion around the Holy Sepulchre, finally died away, like 
the low mutterings of distant thunder, in the opening light of the fifteenth 
century. The Crescent continued to wave in triumph on the walls of 
Jerusalem, and the banner of the cross found repose beneath the genial 
influence of the dawning Reformation. Such were the effects of exor- 
bitant, religious Fanaticism. Millions of lives were lost, both Christian 
and Mahommedan j science and learning were stopped, and superstition 

The Reformation opened a new scene for the display of Fanaticism. 
Superstition, envy, malice, were again infused into the hearts of the pub- 
lic, and the thunders of the Vatican rolled, too much resembling the 
thunders of heaven, over the unoffending hearts of the innocent Reform- 
ers. Religious zeal was kindled with political enthusiasm, and what was 
first a seeming vindication of the Church, became a tantalizing, tyranni- 
cal oppression. The spirit of persecution, engendered at Rome, spread, 
like wild-fire, over the delectable gardens of Christendom, and desolated 
the brightest spots within their rosy beds of loveliness. But there was a 
zeal in the breast of the Reformers as strong, and purer, than that of 
their persecutors. It was like the Greek fire of old — steady and inex- 
tinguishable. It could not be quenched until the body itself was con* 
sumed, and like a flickering torch, when the last spark has died away, 
and a curling smoke rises into the air, the spirit, that moved the inmost 
feelings of the soul, took its flight to the glories of a heavenly home. The 
heart grows faint at the name of Inquisition and its bloody deeds of per* 
secution. What tongue can relate, what pen can describe, the horrible 
deeds of that pernicious tribunal ? Clothed in the mantle of fanatic 
zeal, and shrouded beneath the veil of superstition, it infused its destruc- 
tive influence into the minds of «u unfeeling populace, and instilled it« 

1859.] Fanaticism. 305 

direful poison into the perverted hearts of royalty. The Spanish Inquisi- 
tion will ever be a stigma upon that unhappy people, and will ever be brought 
forward as a warning against the exercise of Fanaticism in religion. The 
Pope of Rome ordered, the prelates preached, the multitude supported, 
the nobility encouraged, and royalty sanctioned, the execution of this 
dread tribunal. The name of St. Dominic should ever be remembered 
in connection with the formation of the Ancient Inquisition, and that of 
Thomas de Torquemada, the cruel-hearted minister, with the inhuman ex- 
ecutions practised in the Modern tribunal. 

Political Fanaticism is a raging madness which haunts the deluded 
minds of infatuated demagogues ; or the enthusiastic zeal cherished in 
the nefarious factions of an uncompromising populace. Like a fierce Si- 
rocco it overswept the revolutionary fields of France, and left a lasting 
stain upon the hearts of its countrymen. The Jacobins and the Giron- 
dists carried its flaming brands to the highest point of cruelty, and royal 
blood flowed freely from the scaffold. Innocence and beauty, wickedness 
and vice, alike perished by the guillotine, and every species of excellence 
and virtue fell beneath the tyrannical axe of the stern exeoutioner. All 
law was subservient to power; and the despotic, tyrannizing hand of 
Robespeire reared the standard of immorality, and a band of infidels,, 
atheists and fanatics flocked to its support, while the Bourbons retired, 
driven from the stage of action by the cruel hand of lawlessness. 

The fiery enthusiasm of the Iconoclasts of Belgium caused irreparable 
less to the churches of Antwerp, and the performance of acts most crimi- 
nal in the eyes of the law, and sacrilegious in the sight of God. Nothing 
was spared, no not even the sacred painting of the magnificent cathedral, 
nor its great organ, the pride and boast of the inhabitants. But the fiery 
tempest rolled on — the uncontrollable band of the " Gueux" of the Neth- 
erlands — and when the clouds of Fanaticism passed by, it left behind in- 
numerable proofs of its presence — the dilapidated remnants of isolated 
churches and the mighty ruins of ecclesiastical property. . 

But to enumerate the many evils of political fanaticism, would be but 
to prepare a catalogue of gross excesses, murder, rapine and crime. It 
unequivocally accompanies revolutions, and not unfrequently engenders re- 
bellions. Men, so prone to yield obedience to their passions, too often 
suffer themselves to be enticed into this evil, and once beyond the bounds 
of conservatism, the most earnest endeavors to retrieve their fallen repu- 
tation is totally useless. Like gallant barks, they can traverse with safety 
the smooth waters of the gulf, but allured with the hope of enjoying more 
genial breezes upon the open sea, and of riding at ease upon its waves, 
they launch forth with throbbing hearts and high aspirations. Bnt the 

304 The Death of Robert Bruce. [December 

winds of disaster beat against their ill-set sails, and they are soon swallow- 
ed up in the whirlpools of destruction. 

That Fanaticism is an evil, prevalent in our own land, no one can deny. 
Its blasting influence has spread itself over the country, and the zeal of 
partizan warfare ana silly demagogues fast looming up from the political 
horizon, has infatuated the minds of many. Party spirit, itself produc- 
tive of the most disastrous evils, sways the public mind, and drowns the 
better feeling of conservatism. " Political organizations, by their baneful 
infections, poison the very »ir of freedom, and corrupt the inmost heart 
of national liberty. 

Fanaticism ! how great, how disastrous have been thy evils ! Thy 
name is written in letters of blood on the souls of your votaries, and in- 
scribed in marks of pitchy blackness on the characters of demoniac mad- 
men ! Insanity is stamped upon thy brow, and beneath the folds of thy 
mantle are crouched those vile corruptions, which make this prototype of 
heaven an archetype of hell! Thy " guiding star " is madness, and the 
shrine at which your votaries worship is base depravity. 


The sun was casting its last, lingering rays around the place where lay 
the dying warrior, as if loth to leave in the dark hour of death one whose 
life had been so bright and glorious. Around were gathered his friends. 
Those who had shared with him his joys and sorrows were collected to see 
him meet his last enemy, and pass from earth to heaven. 

Robert Bruce, whose name is the watchword of those who fight for 
freedom, and whose memory kindles new hope in the breasts of the down- 
trodden and oppressed, was fighting his last battle — his battle with the 
King of Terrors. But what was death to him ? Was it a bloody spectre, 
the avenger of an ill-spent life ? Did he come with brandished spear and 
threatning aspect? No ! he came rather as a welcome messenger from 
heaven to clip the cord that bound him to his sorrows. He came to whis- 
per in his ear those words which make the dying pillow soft : " well done 
thou good and faithful servant!" He came to bear his disengaged spirit to 
the home of the patriot. Ah Death ? thou mayst be terrible to him be- 
fore whom thou bringest the misdeeds of a long life — thou mayest be ter- 
rible to him who recognizes in thee the officer who is to drag him unpro- 

1859 ] The Death of Robert Brwx. 306 

pared before the throne of an angry God — to one who has lived a slave 
and died a slave ; but when thou comest to the hero's couch — when thou 
comest to him who has fought for, and obtained, his country's liberty, thou 
art not terrible. See the calmness which sits enthroned upon that brow! 
Canst thou look upon that scene, and say that Death is terrible ? 

For a while the flame brightens up. 'Tis the last flicker of that light 
which must soon go out forever. He raised his head from his pillow and 
said: Come hither, Douglas; thou hast ever been my truest, warmest 
friend. When hunted by the blood-hounds of the oppressor-- — when my 
life was endangered at every step — when my country had given up her 
towns and cities to be plundered — when desolation and destruction stalked 
though our land, like two mighty giants, destroying everything that came 
within their reach — when a solitary outcast, I wandered through the wilds 
of Scotland, with no sound to fail upon my ear save the sigh of the breezes 
as they swept through the forest, and the loud war of the waves as they 
dashed and broke against the rocky shore, thou wert my faithful friend 
and useful counsellor. When in the fierce battle, amid the shrieks of the 
dying thousands, and the din of clashing claymores, my bravest soldieis 
failed, thou wert ever the readiest to support the charge, and rush into 
the thickest of the fight. And when thine own strong arm had scattered 
the dark clouds which threatened to whelm in one common ruin Scotland 
and myself, 1 found thee still by my side, ready to shield me from the oft 
tJO ruin* u effects of prosjerty. But, I grow faint. I must hasten on. 
I have to commit to thee a trust still dearer than thou hast ever yet borne 
— -ipon it the peace of my dying hour depends. 'Tis in thy power (o 
pluck from my pillow the only thorn which torments my dying head — to 
ease my conscience of the only load which presses upon it. Ihou know* 
est the blackness of the crime which I sommitted in slaying the Red 
Comyn in the church at Dumfries. That sin I intended to atone for by 
a holy crusade, but alas! that hope is gone. Take, then, my heart, bind 
it around thy neck, and carry it to the Holy Land. Do this and thou 
wilt prove thyself a friend in the darkest hour — even the hour of death. 
With these words died the Bruce of Bannockburn — the hero, tfce states- 
man, the patriot, the defender of Scotland and the scourge of England. 
The eyes of the stern warrior who beheld that scene were dimmed with 
tears, and every house in Scotland, like the scroll of the prophet Ezekiel, 
was filled with "lamentation, and mourning, and woe." He died and yet 
he did not die. Like the beautiful tree whose leaves, even after it has 
withered enrich the soil on which it grew, the influence of his name still 
enriches the human heart, and supports and fosters ilie flower of liberty, 

fhose odor is sweet and healthful to the oppressed, but deadly poison to 
le tyrant The castle in which he died ha^ long since bocome the habi- 

806 Envy. [December 

tation of bats and owls. Time, with his effacing finger, has not left a sin- 
gle material monument to tell us of the greatness of Bruce, but his name, 
his actions, his glory form a monument whose base is as broad as civiliza- 
tion, and whose proud top Time cannot bring down. Built upon solid 
worth, there let it stand, that when Liberty is driven from every other 
habitation she may perch upon its top and mock at her foes. His reputa- 
tion is ever increasing — still let it increase as long as there is a place in 
the temple of the human heart dedicated to those who live and die in 
their country's seivice. 


When we look abroad and see the bickerings and strifes which are 
continually maring man's happiness here on earth, we are forced to con- 
elude that there is an impure fountain within, whence flow these bitter 
waters. Nor do we need any further proof of the melancholy fact taught 
us in the Oracles of Sacred Truth, that man is a fallen and corrupt crea- 
ture. Although we may be left in the dark with regard to the way in 
which he became corrupt — revelation alone can teach us this — yet it is 
not the less true that such is the case. 

The inquisitive mind is anxious to know what makes these things so — 
why man, Ishmael-like, is ever running counter to, and maring, the peace 
and happiness of his neighbor. 

" So they will on some plan unite, 
By which to vex him and to spite." 

We know that every effect is the result of some cause, or, it may be, of 
a combination of causes. Hence, we conclude that effects so fraught with 
evil as these of which we complain, must have a corresponding malignant 
cause, deeply seated in the human heart. 

Among the many causes which tend to produce unhappiness and misery 

in the world, we think Envy occupies a very prominent position. What 

we mean by Envy, is near about summed up in this definition of the word : 

" A sensation of uneasiness and disquiet, arising from the advantages 

which others are supposed to have above us, accompanied with malignity 

towards tiose who possess them." This, undoubtedly, is justly styled one 

of the blackest passions that can find a lodging place within the human 


"Envy, of all evil things the worst, 
The same to-day, to-morrow, and for ever, 
Sap3 and consumes the heart in which it workn." 

1859.] Envy. 807 

It is, we think, the bone of contention among men. It, in a majority 
of cases, gives rise to those withering looks, harsh words, and unkind 
acts, which often pierce the generous soul with keener agony than the 
shaft of glittering steel hurled with Herculean strength, and whose wound 
would seem a pleasure. Every one feels its direful effects, either within 
himself, as the plague of his own heart, or as "a troubler of the camp," 
both in sacred and secular matters. 

We are not inclined to laud with fulsome flattery the imaginary happi- 
ness of those who have preceded us, and say that they felt none of tbese 
evils of which we complain ; for in so doing, we would be stifling the 
honest convictions of our own minds, and would be making statements 
which neither history nor experience would corroborate. Ever since man 
has felt the influence of Pride, Ambition, and Love — ever since there has 
been a variety of talents and mental accomplishments, and different de- 
grees of comliness in personal appearance among men — ever since some 
have been born in affluence and dandled in the lap of ease, and others 
have been nursed in the scantiness of poverty within the mud-reared walls 
of an humble cottage — ever since there has been such a thing as the real- 
ization of hopes and disappointments met — just so long has man felt the 
baneful influence of Envy. If it did not disturb the quiet repose of 
Adam and Eve, reclining beneath the verdant bowers of the vet unfor- 
feited Paradise," regaling themselves with pleasures which knew no alloy, 
they felt its painful effects soon after Heaven's law had been infrigned, 
and man was no longer innocent. What could have marred the perfect 
harmony of feeling and sentiment which must have reigned supreme 
within the hallowed precincts of the family circle of our first parents ? 
Could any thing except direful Envy have moved Cain to shed his broth- 
er's blood ? Surely not. Nothing except that accursed and fiendish feel- 
ing which, when it cannot rise and soar to the realms of unalloyed bliss, 
would drag down and bury in the depths of perdition those that are en- 
joying the pleasures which they are not able to reach. 

" Bare envy withers at another's joy, 
And hates that excellence it cannot reach." 

Envy even entered the courts of high Heaven, and stirred up Satan and 

his coadjutors to set at naught the laws of their Maker. Yes, it was that 

Envy which — 

" All human virtue, to its latest breath, 
Finds never conquered, but in death." 

It was Envy that moved Joseph's brethren to sell him as a slave to for- 
eign merchants, and to present to their aged father his " coat of many 
colors" stained with crimson gore, and exultingly exclaim : " Ihis we have 
ound : know now whether it be thy son's coat or no," Not enly this, 

308 Envy; [December 

but they remained unconcerned, if not delighted, when they saw hoary 
hairs bowed with grief and sorrow for a much loved child. It was this 
direful passion that made the blinded Jews crucify the Prince of Peace, 
and willingly entail upon themselves and their children the accursed fruits 
of this inconceivably wicked and heinous act : the evil consequences of 
which they have felt, and are still suffering, so that they have become a 
by-word among all people. 

But let us not confine the existence of this evil to the ancients alone. 
Wherever we turn our eyes, they can easily detect some of its evil work- 
ings. Turn to Queen Elizabeth. We think Envy manifested itself in 
the otherwise amiable character of " good Queen Bess," in all her deal- 
ings with the gifted, though unfortunate Mary, " Queen of Sc*ots." Eli- 
zabeth certainly envied her. The sufferings of this unfortunate woman, 
her long and gloomy confinement, and her melancholy fate, would even 
yet, were not her name associated with Roman Catholicism, against which 
men born and educated in Protestant countries have such a strong preju- 
dice, awaken our sympathies and dispose us to judge charitably of the er- 
rors of innocence, and lead us to detest, from the inmost depths of our 
hearts, that vile and loathsome passion which was the prime agent in pro- 
ducing her miseries. Our own country has been made to mourn beneath 
its blighting touch. It makes the name of Aaron Burr, who would have 
beeu n an ornament to any age or country, to be loathed by the pious and the 
good. When he could not be the ruler of his, he would have been her 
destroyer. He, Samson-like, would have laid his unhallowed hands upon 
the pillars of the sacred temple of freedom, and, with one mighty effort, 
would have buried all beneath its ruins. Burr's happiness and usefulness 
were marred by this unholy passion, even with that Envy which is as 
cruel as the grave. Nothing except that malignant passion, " which grows 
pale and sickens, even if a friend prevails, which merit and success pur- 
sues with hate, and damns the worth it cannot imitate," could have made 
him seek to imbrue his hands in the blood of the lamented Hamilton — • 
one of America's most gifted sons. Well might America clothe herself 
in the habiliments of woe, and exclaim with the ancient bard : " How 
are the mighty fallen !" Yes, weep over the untimely grave of her gifted 
son, and feel 

" Pangs more corrosive and sever, 
More tierce, more pregnant and intense, 
Than ever hostile sword or spear 
Wak'd in the breast of innocence." 

It is useless to multiply examples. From what we have already said, 
Envy must appear to be an evil, and an evil continually. It is an unna- 
tural feeling, more cruel than the ferocious spirit of the wild beast that 

1859.] Self-ReUcmc9 309 

roams over the burning plains of Africa. It even fixes a stain upon the 
character of the savage, much more upon those claiming to be civilized, 
and especially upon those who profess to be under the benign influences 
of the Gospel. Then let every one eschew this odious disposition, crush 
it in its incipient stages, and free himself from this merciless passion, 
which will prey upon his vitals until they are consumed, and contaminate 
the very breath he breathes, and render him odious and loathsome to 
himself and to all connected with him. 


The office of self-reliance are too much underated and neglected. In- 
deed in its exercise consists the last development of the human mind. Un- 
fortunately, all our social relations, especially the present system of educa- 
tion have a tendency to check its action. It is true that in the beginning 
of our knowledge we must found upon faith, but when we arrive at a cer- 
tain point, we are able and ought to overlook the process. But this is a 
task which few are willing and competent to undertake. There is some- 
thing so unsatisfying in this prying into things which only brings unrest 
and disquiet. It is no easy matter to tumble down about our ears that 
respecub;e edifice which our respected ancestors have so graciously erect- 
ed in our behalf It must be done, however, if we have to re-construct 
jfc upon exactly the original pattern, or if, which sometimes happens, we 
have to let in the light to the dark holes of the owls and the bats, root out 
the places where they make their homes, tear away the rotten foundations 
and re build the whole with new timber. 

Truth is a unit, what is true to me must be true to you, for we all are 
enlightened by the same universal reason. But you will not know it to 
be truth until your own soul is warmed by the light which reveals its ex- 
istence, not until the crucible has been heated in the fire of your individ- 
ual consciousness, will the gold appear. 

This, all are prepared to admit as very true and very trite. But let us, 
for curiosity, examine and see how many of the opinions have been sub- 
jected to this test. I am afraid we should find them number much less 
than we had anticipated. To be perceived, the truth must be present, as 
such, to each individual. It must be, as an external object is to the eye, 
and its consciousness must be as clear as that of visual perception. I 
mean that, in the last analysis, we must rely wholly upon self. I wish to 
be understood. I do not mean that wc may not be aided ah extra, but 

310 Self-Rdianec. [December 

that there is but one consciousness in which representatives appear to the 
individual, and upon its falsity or fidelity must our. knowledge stand or 
fall. It must always be our point of departure and our chart by the way. 

I said it was the condition of all knowledge, and the fact can be made 
out, I think, without danger of losing ourselves in empty speculation. Ob- 
serve, then, that there is an inner light, call it what you please, which re- 
' veals to us certain original principles from which, as from fountains, flow 
all our knowledge. Upon these are based the discursions of the under- 
standing, and of course their results. It is not for us to penetrate their 
depths — not for us to fathom the mystery of Thought and Being. That 
these principle exist, and what they are, there is only one book reveals, 
and that is the book of consciousness. That they are true, each one must 
receive in faith for himself. There is only one witness in the cause. 
This one cannot testify on mere hearsay. It behooves us to interrogate 
long and well, and ponder the responses in the depths of our intellectual 
beings, for no ordinary issue is at stake. It is illogical, and the vicious 
circle of those who rely upon the truthfulness of God for the veracity of their 
faculties is easily seen, since they are compelled to arrive at God by means of 
the very faculties which are themselves called in question. To know the 
things that are without, we must know those that are within, and we may 
here see how the primal source of Theology and of Philosophy considered 
in their relation to us springs within ourselves. 

Observe, too, that to these first principles are related as effect to cause, 
all the remainder of our knowledge, and that the conclusions which we 
reach and the laws which bind them to the premises, we must find and 
feel them to be true in our own experience. All that another can do for 
you is to present new matter to the mind ; so much of this as you recog- 
nize to be true you may appropriate, but no more, it is not truth to you. 
If it be really truth to another, and is not to you, it is because conscious- 
ness has not been prolonged into reflection ; it never may be, and so one 
may be ignorant of the loftiest truths which command our attention. In- 
deed but few can, and here consists the distinction between the wise and 
the unwise — the philosopher and the man of common sense. But here as 
we see, this difference is merely one of degree, the nature of the know- 
ledge is the same in both. The profound reflection of the one, is nothing 
more than a more earnest and intense gaze into the same consciousness 
which appears only superficially to the other. There is no alternative. 
It is impossible to escape the limits of our own, subjectivly. 

But self-reliance is not only the condition, but its exercise affords the 
only criterion of our knowledge. There is a great deal in the remark that 
" man is a bundle of habits." If we call the multitude of our opinions to 
pass in strict review before us, we should not be astonished to find how 

1859.] Self-Reliance. 311 

few, how very few are the results of independent reflection. The relations 
of mankind are such that a few must do the thinking for the mass, and 
that in the kingdom of mind, too, the body of the subjects must be hew- 
ers of wood and drawers of water. Zoraster, Plato and Aristotle are not 
yet dispossessed of their empire, nor will they ever be, for while their er- 
rors will die, their truths, which are your truths and my truths, will re- 
main. The appeal is made to the individual. Weary nights of toil were 
consumed by men of genius before the Pythagman proportion was de- 
monstrated : but given the demonstration, and the school-boy sees that it 
must be so. See here the same distinctions before referred to between 
the great and the ordinary man. Take Luther, Kant, Bacon, Calvin and 
others, and see how the track which they pointed out has been pursued 
by the thousands of their respective schools, and how few there are who 
dare to diverge from the beaten way ! How simple progress is transmu- 
ted into the idea of excellence ! But the influences of the fathers of 
schools is not the most direct or powerful. The little innocent dawing 
upon its mother's knee is beginning to receive those impressions which 
are to be continued and engraved upon the plastic mind of its childhood, 
which strengthen with its strength and ripen into maturity with its man- 
hood. We know how delightful are the associations that cluster round 
the names of home and mother. There is something inexpressibly sweet 
in the recollection of the church where we used to go on the beautiful 
Sabbath morning to school, and the grave yard upon which we looked 
with such childish awe; in the little joys and sorrows of our infancy. 
These scenes supply inspiration to the school-boy, and grace the decla- 
mation of the collegian. But with these recollections are interwoven the 
opinions and prejudices, partly true and partly false, which have moulded 
our intellectual life. The task of discrimination is no grateful one. The 
hand with which the intellect must grasp, tear and guide aright the feel- 
ings whicti cling so lovingly to the object of the affections as to obscure 
its view, must be a ruthless one, and who would not forget the pain ? 
History has shown us how few they are who do not, how few they are 
who effect " That mind and soul according well, may make one music as 

From the constitution of society we gravitate towards a common centre. 
Unconsciously, we fall in with and partake of the spirit of the age. And 
history fully confirms the testimony of our own experience. See a thou- 
sand different customs of as many different countries. The innumerable 
creeds, moral, religious and political, which have from time to time ap- 
peared upon the theatre of our globe and maintained their places with 
various success — the natural sympathy of our race — the manners and 

312 &e!f~JRdi<wct>, [December 

fashions of social life — the multiform phases in different time, countries, 
and circumstances and in different periods of life. 

I shall not attempt to strengthen the argument by quoting tie author- 
ity of those who have studied humanity and watched its revolutions, that 
man is almost entirely the creature of custom, we know that it is true, we 
feel that it is true. How then, in this unusual hub-bub, in this seething 
cauldron of opinion, in this tempest of dust and trash, are we to separate 
the real from the unreal, the true from the false? See the problem of 
human life ! Before going into battle it is well to look to our armor. So 
before entering the arena of the strife of opinions, we should cast about 
us, see how far we may advance with impunity, or if compelled to retreat, 
find some sure resting place, some basis of operations from which we may 
survey the field aud mature our plans for future action. The result of 
our reflection, I think, will be that if we would be victorious in the 
life-contest, we must rely upon the intuitions of reason and the exercise of 
the understanding regulated by the laws of a sound logic. Let us con- 
sult our friends, learn from our superiors, and store our minds with the 
treasures of the past ; but we shall find that our friends disagree, that our 
superiors are often unable to satisfy us, and that history, too, often has a 
tendency to drive us to skepticism. True we are weak. Newton was but 
a child picking up grains of sand by the shores of the ocean. But let us 
not degrade our reason, it is all we have. If we conclude that reason is 
weak is it not by means of self that we do so. If there be a God it speaks 
his voice. 

The accurate observer will see in all this nothing to foster human pride. 
He will find that the beginning of knowledge is humilty, that the poet is 
right when he says : 

" We have but faith, we cannot know, 

Our knowledge is of things we see, 
And yet we trust it comes from Thee, 

A beam in darkness, let it grow." 

I close. If these few crude reflections have led any one to scrutinize 
more closely the offices of self-reliance, or may provoke criticism and fur- 
ther investigation, I am content. 

1859.] BtUtors' Tabic. <M 


Our Success. — With this number of the Magazine we give you a Mezzotint 
Steel Engraving of Judge Nash, together with a memoir of that distinguished 
Chief Justice by the Hon. John H. Bryan. Not wishing to seem self-conceited 
or puffed by the success of our own energies, nor invoking one sentence of ap- 
proval from you, kind reader, you will pardon us for dwelling a moment on 
the past condition of our University Exponent, and the comparative merits of 
the present. Eight years have passed away since this periodical began to con- 
tribute its mite to the cabinet of literature, and kindle the spark of rising 
genius by telling the joys and woes, the thoughts and beau-ideals that fill the 
" intellectual store-house" of each newly fledged author. Some volumes suc- 
ceeded, and, unlike the one conducted by our immediate predecessors, gained 
the smile of approval. But more than once have the voices of the envious and 
bigoted threatened to bury it in oblivion— more than once have the disloyal 
columns of newspapers in this State, deaf to every feeling of sympathy, pan- 
dered to the discouraging remarks of our enemies. Calculated, as they were, 
to hush the first aspirations of youth, and leave them mortified at the recep- 
tion their laudable ambition had met with. But through all the perils we are 
happy to say that there still survives a medium (though savored by the wis- 
dom of older heads,) through which the young can make known the fruits of 
learning acquired by the midnight lamp. 

It was with much fear and misgiving that we put on the " editorial robe," 
five months ago. Our immediate predecessors had failed to be punctual, and, 
in fact, they issued only about half the required and promised numbers. Yes, 
k was with fear that we entered upon our duties. Visions of College criticism 
and the still more powerful ones of our exchanges came flitting by, while we 
almost anticipated such public displeasure as to drive us to the necessity of 
abandoning the publication. But with our first issue we received such en- 
couragement, not only from the two Societies, not only from the immediate 
support of our fellow students, not only from the learned men of the State, but 
also from the talented men and the " press" of other States — from the Potomac 
to the Colorado. Such has been our success, and it caused us to conclude that 
he old maxim, "where there is a will there is a way," was true, and "Hope 
he charmer lingered behind." 

Whether we deserve the encouragement and compliments given us by our 
xchanges, or whether (and it is very probable,) they were the offerings of a 

enerous spirit, we feel bound to say that our gratitude is wholly inadequate 

the services they have rendered us. 

In regard to our improvement, we give you sixteen pages more than any 
ollege monthly now published in the United States. Ours is also the only 

liege monthly in the United States, if not the only Magazine south of Phila- 

elphia that gives Mezzotint Steel Engravings, or illustrations of any kind. 


314 Editors' Table. [December 

College voices or College enemies, we hope, will never again chant the 
would-be funeral hymns of the University Magazine. No-— we are now real- 
izing our most sanguine expectations ; beyond this what could we wish ? The - 
'•kind word" has been spoken, the approving smile of veterans has lightened 
our task, the contributions of the learned has adorned our pages, the levity of 
youth has given them a reception. No longer do We hear the anathemas of 
"sublime failure " greeting us from every window, from the noisy room of the 
*• Freshman," to the sanctum of the " Senior." 

"We have been eminently successful in obtaining publishers. Those now in 
our employ are industrious^ punctual* and strictly faithful in the discharge of 
their duties. 

Vacation. — With this number of our Magazine, our Editorial duties for the' 
year will cease. Vacation with all its charms and fascinations is now before 
us. Students and Professors are now relieved for six weeks of their weighty 
responsibilities and arduous labors. 

The occasion fills us with emotions of pleasure and pain. It is certainly a 
Bacred pleasure, to return to that happy and quiet abode where our infancy, 
with its pure innocence, was passed ; to return to those dear parents, whose 
tender and fond affection supplied all our boyish desires ; to meet again in sweefe 
and hallowed embrace, those dear sisters and brothers who Were the kind and 
disinterested partakers of all our early pleasures and amusements ; to stand 
again beneath that noble and majestic tree, where in early days we played the 
game of ball, and frightened from its protective bowers the twittering song^ 
ster, with prolonged laughs of glee ; to wander again along the banks of some 
favorite stream, where in boyhood days we gathered magnolias, or captured 
the unsuspecting fishes. 

But, fellow-student, think a moment. Have you done your duty here ? Ke- 
member that 

" Time destroyed 
Is suicide, where more than blood is spilt." 

And have you been " destroying time ?" If so, will not the remorse of the 
murder detract much from the pleasures of your vacation ? Think well of the' 
value of time, which in its unerring course, bears us on to manhood. We are 
not instructing or advising, but we are thinking aloud. We are thinking of 
the importance of preparing for the journey of life. Seniors, this is our last 
college vacation ; when another session shall have passed away, we will bid 
farewell to these 

"Wood-crested hills, and verdant vales among, 

To North Carolina's learned retreat, 
Where arts and letters and the poet's song 
Adorn with majesty the Muse's seat." 
And as we extend that farewell to our Alma Mater, can we say to her, and 
with truth utter the sentence — 

" To merit more than fame thy sons aspire 
In useful arts and happiness to live ; 

1859.] Editors' Table. 819 

The trembling soldiers forthwith turned their backs, 
Looked up the street, and soon. were " making tracks." 
No boldness aided in the swift retreat — 
The longest legs were sure to be mpst fleet. 
The drummer, like a hero, led the van, 
And proudly shouted : " Catch me, if you can." 
The fifeman ceased to blow his martial strains, 
Prepared to use his feet, instead of brains, 
Within his pocket quickly hid his fife, 
And ran, to catch the drummer, for dear life, 
Each private hero with a noble zeal, 
Essayed to touch the flying fifeman's heel ; 
While all along the field, look where you pleased, 
Some fell whom fear, and some whom laughter, seized. 
Disastrous war ! Shall I recount the spoil 
Left to reward the victors for their toil ? 
The double barrelled gun, the paper mask — 
I can no further go — too hard the task. 
But one defeat can never quell the brave, 
They scattered for a moment, as a wave 
Which rocks oppose — the rattle of the drum 
Bade each man to his station back to come. 
The crowd assembled, thus their captain spake : 
' ' My soldiers, we must keep the town awake ; 
Must give the hostile Faculty no peace, 
Till they have promised from pursuit to cease ; 
Must drown them with a tide of noises — fifeman, 
Blow our dear 'Yankee Doodle' for your life,man." 
He scarce had ceased, when from the crowd there came 
A Senior in the Faculty's dread name ; 
Majestic strode he to th' expectant foe, 
, And frowned a withering frown, but 'twas " no go." 

The crowd stood still, not one had melted down 
Beneath that Senior's awful, melting frown. 
" I frown in vain," he cried ; "but I'll begin 
Another stratagem — I'll try a grin." 
Tumultuous shouting from the soldiers burst ; 
To grin no longer that brave Senior durst. 
The rats awakened from their sleep peeped out, 
And asked each other, " What's the row about?" 
One cunning ratling shouted 'mid the din : 
"They're students, fellows ; poke your noses in." 

Now roused to energy, the fifeman played, 
The drummer rattled on, still undismayed ; 
The captain on his horse rode up and down, 
Ajid acted well the part of Captain Brown ; 
Each private soldier shook his loaded gun, 
Prepared to fight, or readier still to run ; 
While one brave orator assumed a stump, 
And dared the soldiers to attack the pump. 
Then each man girded up his dreadful might, 
And forward rushed to join the bloodless fight. 
But ah ! misfortune oft attends the great ! 
The drummer beat his drum at furious rate, 
Inspired with ardor, when whom should he see 
Standing before him, but the Faculty. 
Too late to run, the day again was lost, 
But this time at a far more fearful cost— 

820 fetors' Tabk 

One darted to the captain and cried : " Sir, 
We're lost, we're lost — the drum's a prisoner.' 7 
I shudder while I put it in my verse, 
The foeman came, and sternly cried — "Disperse." 

The tumult ended, and my story ends ; 
But I must gi , e a warning to you, friends. 
I learned with .^rief that some of you had thrown. 
And injured a Professor with a stone ; 
If any did it purposely, he's base, 
And should in shame forever hide his face. 
I love enjoyment, and I favor fun, 
But when it turns to rudeness, I am done ; 
Be mirthful if you will, but ne'er neglect 
To treat old age, at least, with some respect. 

Presentation op a Silver Pitcher to Rev. A. M. Shipp, D. D. — The stu- 
dects of the University have presented to Dr. Shipp a beautiful silver pitcher, 
as "a token of esteem," and we are pleased to publish the following corres- 
pondence between the committee and Dr. Shipp : 

N. C. University, Oct. 29, 1859. 
Rev. A. M. Shipp — Dear Sir: Your friends here though regretting your 
departure, are consoled by the thought that you have only transferred your 
virtues to a wider theatre of usefulness. They will not soon forget you, for 
affection and respect paint bright pictures upon the tablet of youthful memory. 
"Wishing you success and happiness in your new home, they beg the accept- 
ance of the accompanying pitcher as a slight token of esteem. 



Wofford College, S. C, Nov. 7, 1859. 

Gentlemen: — Your letter of the 29th ult., was this morning received with 
the accompanying elegant present from my " friends at the University of 
North Carolina." 

I am deeply affected by this " token of esteem," and regret my inability to 
give expression to my feelings in "a word fitly spoken, like apples of gold in 
pictures of silver." I reciprocate most cordially the sentiments of " affection 
and respect " expressed in the letter and manifested by the rich token. It 
shall be cherished as a refreshing memento of most pleasant associations with 
"friends at the University," from whom during the whole period of my con- 
nection with the Institution, I always received polite and gratefully remem- 
bered exhibitions of kindness and regard. My liveliest sympathies are with 
young men, whose thorough education and sound morality form the only solid 
oasis for the security and prosperity of our country, and for the young men 
of the University, I shall never cease to entreat the happiness of those who 
" find wisdom and get understanding — the merchandize of which is better 
than the merchandize of silver and the gain thereof than fine gold." 
With sentiments of gratitude, I am yours &c, 

To Messrs. Borden, Wright, Patterson, Smith and Douglass, Committee. 



1 . ■ . . 


mmw (&1BS8 




GEORfiE p bryax 
WM. T. NICII/M/ . 


Vol.9. FEBRUARY, 1860. No. 6. 




The late lion. James C. Dobbin, the eldest child of John M. and 
Ahncss C. Dobbin, was born in Fayettcville, North Carolina, in the year 
1814, and was called after his maternal grandfather, James Cochrane, 
who represented the Orange District in Congress, during the war of 1812. 

His father, John M. Dobbin, was a merchant in Fayettcville for a pe- 
p riod of thirty years, and died in 1837 deeply lamented. 

At an early age James C. Dobbin was sent to school in his native town, 
where he rapidly acquired the rudiments of a classical edu?at'on. He was 
afterwards sent to the school of Mr. Win. J. Bingham, in Ilil.'sboro', by 
whom he was prepared for College. In 1828 he entered the Freshman 
Class of the University of North Carolina. 

While at the University he was distinguished for a prompt and faithful 
discharge of every duty imposed upon him, as also for a ready and cheer- 
ful observance of all the rules and regulations of the institution. 

Though much the youngest member of his class, he, during his whole 
collegiate course, was among the foremost in that honorable field of rivalry, 
and graduated with high distinction in 1882, in the same class with Hon. 
Thomas L. Clingman, John II. Ilaughton, Thomas S. A&he, and other, 
now distinguished, gentlemen. 

Mr. Dobbin, while at College, was an universal favorite with the stu- 
dents and faculty, and his amiable character and gentlemanly deportment 
so won upon the affections of the venerable President, Dr. Caldwell, that 

322 Biographical Sketch of Ron. J. C. Bobbin. [February, 

he has been heard to say in the bosom of his family, " it would gladden 
his heart to be the father of such a son as James C. Dobbin." 

Mr. Dobbin commenced the study of the law in the office of the late 
Hon. Robert Strange, at that time one of the Judges of the Superior 
Courts of North Carolina, and under his guidance devoted two and one 
half years to the mattery of that science which has been denominated 
" the perfection of reason." 

During a portion of the time that Mr. D. read law with Judge Strange 
he was an inmate of his house and member of his family, and thus possess- 
ed the advantage of the Judge's oral instruction, and also laid the founda- 
tion of that reciprocal esteem and affection which ever remained firm and un- 
alterable, and made them fund companions and bosom friends during life. 

Mr. Dobbin was called to the bar in 1835, and having taken an office 
in Fayetteviile he devoted himself assiduou-Iy to the strict and energetic 
pursuit of his profession. "Whether clients called or not he was. during 
business hours, always in his office, and this remarkable regularity was in 
some measure the foundation of his professional success. 

He did not, as too many young lawyers do, select a large circuit in the 
outset, but wisely husbanded his time and energies for a faithful discharge 
of chamber practice, and in attendance upon the County and Superior 
Courts of Cumberland, Sampson and Robeson. His theory was, -let a 
man build u-> a reputation at home — let it rid ate and precede him. rather 
than that he should precede it." By acting upon this theory every c xtcL- 
Bion or his circuit moie resembled a tnumph man an effort to success. 

The first capital case in which he appeared was where a negro was in- 
d cted in the Superior Court of Cumberland, in 1837, for the killing of 
another negro. He had the honor to be associated in the defence with 
the Hon. Robert Strange, who had just been elected to the Senate of the 
United States, and had resigned his seat upon the Eench. In the man- 
agement of the case Mr. Dobbin displayed great ingenuity, and in his 
arguments to the jury gave evidence of those peculiar talents that after- 
ward* ranked him among the most successful criminal advocates in North 

We know of no lawyer's history more encouraging aid instructive to 
the young members of the profession than that of Mr. Dobbin. No acci- 
dental circumstance occurred by which he seized on fume by a single 
effort. No one case can be cited as that which made the man. His 
practice and reputation daily increased by his faithful d.scharge cf duty. 
"He was content to labor and to wait." and not u.shamed to learn from 
Toomer, Fccles, Strange and Henry, who were the leaders of the T& . 
e'teville bar at the time, but with whom he was so shortly to contend. 

Ee was frequently desired to represent his native county, Cumberland, 

1SG1] Eiojrcphkal Sketch nf Ron. J. C. Lolhin. 323 

in the State Legislature, but this he invariably declined, alleging that he 
was happy and contented in the discharge of his professional dut'es. ai d 
experienced more real joy in the bosom of his family than he could ever 
expect from the excitement of political life. 

Jn the year 1845. he was nominated by the Democratic party as a can- 
d (1 ite to represent them in Congress from the Baieigh District. 'Ihis 
nomination was unsolicited and unexpected. Considering his youth, his 
previously retired life, the District and the able men who therein resided, 
it was an extremely flattering testimonial of that high esteem in which Le 
was held, and after some hesitation he accepted the nomination and enter- 
ed upon the campaign. 

His competitor was his old classmate, John E. Haughton, Esq., an 
abie and talented Whig. Mr. Dobbin was elected by a majority of two 
thousand votes, though in the previous campaign his democratic prede- 
cessor had beaten his whig rival only about three hundred votes. 

At the commencement of the Twenty-Ninth Congress Mr. Dobbin was 
present and had the honor to be placed upon the Committee of Contested 
Elections, and took an active part in all their deliberations and reports. 

In the contested election from I lorida. between Cabell and Brocken- 
brough, Mr. Dobbin was of opinion that Cabell was not entitled to his 
seat, ahd so voted. 

In the New Jersey contested election between, Runk and Farlee, he 
was cha ruian oft. e majority committee, and submitted their report. In 
th.s case he was active and zealous, and labored to have the matter deter- 
mined at an early day. lor. having satisfied himself that nineteen of the 
students at the College of New Jersey had a right to vote, he was anxious 
that justice should be done, and that by declaring that Earlee. democrat, 
was not entitled to his seat but, that Dunk, the whig member, was. A 
majority of the House finally sustained his view of the case. 

Upon the Oregon Question, Mr. Dobbin spoke. He thought the time 
for "masterly inacti\ify" had passed, and that a notice to terminate the 
joint tenancy should be served upon Great Britain. 

On the 1 ublic Land Bill, ihen before Congress, he delivered an able 
and elocpient speech. He rose 'above party trammels and said, " I am qp- 
j)o:<.:!. to the policy of cedhuj thee lands to the Suites in ichich they lie;" 
fchatna'ther justice or any other consideration recpiired it, and appealed 
to goutlemm to strike that feature from the bill. 

in th.s speech he advocated the repeal of the tariff of 1842, and after 
an elaborate argument intended to show that it taxed every other branch 
of industry for the sole purpose for enriching the manufacturer, he pro- 
ceeded to enforce his positions by a reference to the conduct cf England, 
in the following bcautuul and characteristic remarks; 

324 Biographical Sketch of Hon. J. C. Dobbin. [February, 

"Mr. Chairman — It has fallen to our lot to become actors on the theatre 
of public life at a most remarkable era in the history of the world. 'J Le 
human mind evincing its mighty and mysterious capabilities is achieving 
triumphs at once wonderful and sublime. The elements of nature are 
playthings for it to sport with. Earth, ocean, air, lightning, yield sub- 
servient in the hands of genius to minister to the wants, the purposes, the 
pleasures of man. Science is fast developing to the meanest capacity the 
hidden secrets of nature, hitherto unexplored in the researches of phil- 
osophy. Education is exerting its mild and refining influence, to elevate 
and bless the people. The control of electricity is astonishing the world. 
The power of steam is annihilating distance, and making remote cities and 
towns and strangers at once neighbors and friends. Amid these mighty 
movements in the fields of science, literature and philosophy, the liberal 
spirit of a free government, in its steady and onward progress, is beginning 
to accomplish much for the amelioration of the condition of the human 
family, so long the hope of the statesman and philanthropist. The illib- 
eral maxims of bad government, too long supported for false reverence 
for the'.r antiquity, are beginning to give place to enlightened suggestions 
of experience. England, the birth-place, is proposing to become the 
grave of commercial restriction. In that land, whose political doctrines 
are so often the theme of our denunciation and satire, with all the artillery 
of landed aristocracy, associated wealth, and party vindictiveness levelled 
at him. there has appeared a learned, a leading Premier, Sir Robert Peel, 
w io, blending in his character much of the philanthropy of Burke, the 
bold and matchless eloquence of Chatham, and the patriotism of Hampden, 
has had the moral courage and magnanimity to proclaim that he can no 
longer resist the convictions of experience and observation, and that the 
system of commercial restriction and high protection is wrong, oppressive 
and should be abandoned. Already, sir, has much been done — already 
has the British tariff, so long pleaded as the excuse for ours, been radi- 
cally reformed and in obedience to the persevering demand of an outraged 
people, we hope that the next gale that crosses the Atlantic will come 
laden with the tidings of a still greater triumph in the repeal of the corn 
laws, so oppressive to Englishmen, and injurious to Americans. 

ki And shall we not reciprocate this liberal spirit? Shall republican 
America, so boastful of her greatness and freedom, be outstripped in her 
career in this cause of human rights by monarchical England ? No sir, 
I do not, cannot, and will not believe it. I have an abiding, unshaken, 
iaith ;n the ultimate triumph of so righteous a cause. 

" Mr. Chairman, we may surpass the nations of the the earth in science, 
in arms and in arto; the genius of our people may attract the admiration 
of mankind — may cause 'beauty and symmetry to live on canvas' — may 

I860.] Biographical Sketch of Eon. J. C. Dobbin. 325 

a'most make the marble from the quarry to ' breathe and speak ' — may 
charm the world with elegant attainments in poetry and learning, but 
much, very much, will be unaccomplished; the beauty of our political 
escutcheon will still be marred, while Commerce is trammeled, and Agri- 
culture and trade depressed by bad legislation." 

At the close of the session he returned to Fayetteville, and prosecuted 
his le^al pursuits with energy and zeal. 

On the meeting of Congress he was again in attendance, and on the 
" Three Million Bill " he delivered an admirable speech, which in its 
range embraced the " Mexican War," " Wilmot Proviso," and " Exten- 
sion of Slave Territory," that attracted the attention of the whole country 
and gave rank to Mr. Dobbin among the ablest debaters in Congress. 
This speech, which was much praised at the time as an able and thorough 
vindication of Southern rights upon constitutional grounds, was published 
in full in the Congressional Globe, and to this the reader is referred for 
specimens of his power of argumentation, as well as for his graceful and 
peculiar charm of elocution. 

Having served out the term for which lie was elected, Mr. Dobbin de- 
clined to be a candidate again, and betook himself closely to his profession. 
His efforts in Congress gave very general satisfaction to his friends and to 
his constituents, and once more at the bar he added to his former success. 

In the Legislature of North Carolina for the session of 1848-'9, Mr. 
Dobbin occupied a deservedly high position. He was placed upon the 
judiciary committee, and took a prominent part in all its deliberations. 

At this session the philanthropist, Miss Dix, memorialized the Legisla- 
ture to erect an Asylum for the Insane. The memorial was referred to a 
select committee, of which John W. Ellis (now Governor of North Car- 
olina,) was chairman, and through him a bill was reported, favorable to 
the prayer of the memorialist. In the mean time Governor Ellis was 
elected to the Bench, and having resigned his seat in the Legislature, the 
Hon. Kenneth Bayner moved that the bill introduced by Mr. Ellis be 
taken up, and that one hundred thousand dollars be appropriated to its 
erection. This motion Mr. Bayner advocated in a speech of great power, 
eloquence and beauty, but it was negatived by a vote, ayes 44, noes 66, 
under circumstances which induced the belief that the bill could not pass. 

The amiable and beloved wife of Mr. Dobbin had, a day or two before 
Mr. Bayner spoke, been committed to her mother earth, and he was not 
in attendance upon the house. Miss Dix, anxious for the fate of the bill 
and having confidence in Mr. Dobbin's influence and power before the 
Legislature, had him waited upon, and reminded of his xcife's request 
that he would advocate and support the measure. The appeal could not 
be withstood, and he promised to try on the coming day. 

826 Biographical Sketch of Hon. J. C. Do^li". [February, 

When the House met Mr. Dobbin was present. 1 he bill bud Leen 
reconsidered, and was then pending on a motion to aj • oprVe $ 5,000, 
Mr. Dobbin proposed a substitute and suggested a plan by whi h, in four 
years, the State could raise §85,000, and in advocating this measure he 
delivered, in the language of the Raleigh Register, "one of the most 
touchingly beautiful efforts," ever heard in the Legislature of the £tate. 
The bill was passed, almost unanimously. 

While we refrain from eulogy, (because of biography.) let us say that 
this, if no other effort, should place Mr. Dobbin in the heart of all good 
men, as one who appreciated intellect, and felt deeply for those who by 
misfortune, accident, chance, or otherwise hud lost it. •• lie prizes life, 
who knows its value — he prizes intellect, who from experience and the 
workings of intellect, has made its power known." These were truisms 
with Mr. Dobbin. The best monument for any man is that which com- 
memorates his good deeds. The "Dix Asylum" is Mr. Dobbin's monu- 
ment ! That, if nothing else, shows him to be the ratriot and philan- 

He was a delegate to the Baltimore Convention, in 185." — was the 
leader of the North Carolina delegation, an J after the nomination of Mr. 
Bnchanan had been given up zs beyond hope, he made a most gallant 
effort in behalf of General Pierce, which was fallowed soon by his adop- 
tion as the choice of all the contending parties in that body. 

He was elected to the Legislature in that year fjr the last time — was 
nominated by the Democratic party, in caucus, for the United States 
Senate, but not receiving two votes in open session, from Democratic 
members, his friends had not the numerical force to elect him. and the 
State from that time until 1854 was represented in the Senate by the 
Hon. George E. Badger. 

In the year 1852, Mr. Dobbin was the State Elector of the Democratic 
party and attended several meetings to address the people. After the 
election, he received an invitation from General Tierce to become a mem- 
ber of his Cabinet, and after the inauguration on the fourth of March 
1853, he was chosen by the President for the Navy Department. 1 rom 
that time forward to the coming in of Mr Buchanan, the history of Mr. 
Dobbin, as a public man, is the history of the Navy itself. How he bore 
himself "in his great office," is spoken " trumpet-tongued ' throughout 
the land. Of his energy, his readiness, his decision. h;s incorruptible in- 
tegrity, his influence, his administrative capacity, his suggestivenees cf 
mind, his unrivalled success, there are witnesses on sea and land. 

None was more beloved than he, whether he sat in office d sposing or 
withholding patronage, or in the domestic and social circle, joyously par- 
ticipating in the pleasures of life. He was firm in his purposes, decided 

IS3D.] War of the Regulation. 327 

in all his convictions of duty, and exact in execution, however painful; 
ye: those who may have fallen under the condemnation of his jndgement 
or his oihciai policy are ready to acknowledge that he was upright in all 
his aims nor "net duwn aught in malice." 

Uiuk-jii in health, he retired from public service with President Pierce, 
came home to receive the joyous welcome of the State — to be fanned once 
cure by the brjezjsthit he loved — to repose for a time in the sacred 
ietiunJcnt ci his cur chamber, and there to die! 


[Part II— 1769.) 

Of the series of facts relied upon in the Peclaration of Tndepcrd n cc 
to show tbat the direct object of the English government was to establish 
an absolute tyranny over the American colonies, the first in order and im- 
portance are: the refusal of assent to the most wholesome and necessary 
laws; the refusal of permission to pass laws of pressing importance unless 
suspended in their operation ; the refusal to pass laws for the accommo- 
dition of large districts of country, unless the right of representation were 
relin pished; thi calling together of legislative bodies at places unusual, 
uncomfortable, and distant from their records, for the sole purpose of 
fatiguing them into compliance with royal measures; the dissolving repre- 
sentative houses repeatedly for opposing, with manly firmness, invasions on 
the rights of the people ; and the refusal, for a long time after such dissolu- 
tion, to cause others to be elected — the State remaining in the mean time 
exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without and convulsions within. 

Tyranny not unfrequently exhibits itself in the most hateful forms in 
the remotest rrovinces of an empire. History, ancient and modern, 
rb. unds in proofs and illustrations. Prerogative powers were carried with 
a higher hand in the American colonies than in the mother country, and 
in no one cf them w. re they asserted s> frequently or exercised so op- 
prcrshelv as in North Carolina. 

^ Ai.ter.or to the accession of Governor Dobbs, Assemblies were ordina- 
rily I'.emiaJ and held a single session, Ktf called an Assembly which met 

328 War of the Regulation. [February, 

for the first time on the 12th of December, 1754, and began its ninth and 
last session live years thereafter — 20th of November, 1759. 

His last Assembly commenced its first session en the 30th of January, 
1764. Governor Tryon, as Ave have seen, met this body at the opening 
. of the third session in Wilmington, on the 3d of May, 1765. Fifteen 
days thereafter, he avenged the contumacy of the town of Wilmington, 
and the representatives of the people, by proroguing the session to New- 
Berne, where the members were directed by proclamation to report them- 
selves, on the 12th of March of the following year, 1766. The excite- 
ment created by the Stamp Act increasing, instead of abating, on the 21st 
of December — six months before the appointed day of meeting — the pro- 
rogued Assembly was dissolved. The public records, though the Legis- 
lature never met at Wilmington again, were not removed to New-Berne 
until five years thereafter. 

He called a new Assembly to convene at New-Berne on the 22d of 
April. 1766, but two months in anticipation of the time of meeting, pro- 
rogued the session to the 30th of October, and afterwards to the 3d of 
November. We have referred to the repose secured by this eighteen 
months' suspension of legislative power, consequent upon the dissolution 
of the Assembly, " for opposing, with manly firmness, invasions on the 
rights of the people." The extraordinary ascendency which he so soon 
acquired over this, Ms first Assembly, which met him under circumstances 
calculated to produce the deepest irritation, cannot have escaped the at- 
tention of the reader. 

He met this body for the third and last time on the 7th of November, 
1763. The proclamation announcing the repeal of the Stamp Act bore 
date, it will be remembered, on the 26th of June, 1766 In the same 
month of the following year — 1767 — the bill passed Parliament to levy 
duties on tea, glass, paper, painters' colors, &c, imported into the colonies. 
Other enactments to coerce collections followed in quick succession. 
These new schemes of taxation were regarded as direct assaults upon civil 
liberty. Discontent, deeper and more general than that produced by the 
Stamp Act, prevailed throughout the continent, and the southern and 
northern districts of the province were again united upon a common issue, 
in opposition to t'ie government. The Governor encouraged by previous 
success, no doubt, supposed at the beginning of the session that his hold 
on this well tried body was too strong to be broken by what he hoped, and 
had reason to hope, would prove to be a mere temporary ebullition of pop- 
ular feeling. It was soon apparent, however, that notwithstanding their 
personal devotion the' representatives sympathized deeply with their con- 
stituents, and that general distrust prevailed of what had so long and so 
fondly been termed and considered the home government. 

I860.] War of the Reflation. 329 

One of the earliest measures of the session, nevertheless, was to erect a 
new county west of Mecklenburg, which, in compliment to the Governor, 
was called Tryon. The mountain at the terminus of the southern boun- 
dary line, run during the preceding summer, had received his name, and 
his correspondence with the Secretary of State^does not leave us to infer, 
merely from his peculiar cast of character, the double gratification with 
which he received this closing evidence of affection and respect. It is 
rather surprising that he should have permitted even high considerations 
of State policy to separate him from a body which he had so frequent- 
ly moulded to his will. 

The famous circular of the 11th of February, addressed by the House 
of Representatives of Massachusetts, to the Legislatures of the several 
Provinces, however, had been placed before them by Mr. Speaker Harvey, 
and, as in the instance of the Stamp Act, the Governor had no disposi- 
tion to indulge premature discussion on exciting topics. On the 5th of 
December he prorogued the session to the 81st of May, 1769, and on the 
29th of April, announced a second prorogation to the 15th of June. On 
the 6th of May, forty days anterior to the appointed time of meeting, he 
informed the Council "that several members of the House of Assembly 
were absent or dead," and suggested " that under the present circumstances 
of the country, it might be expedient to dissolve the present Assembly." 

Greatly to the gratification of the Regulators a proclamation was forth- 
with published announcing the dissolution of the General Assembly, and 
writs issued to the several counties for the election of new members, re- 
turnable at New-Berne. 

At Hillsborough, on the 3d of October in the preceding year, at the 
close of his first campaign against the Regulators and sis mouths previou 3 
to the election of members to the new Assembly, the Governor announced 
by proclamation that in several parts of the Province, particularly in the 
counties of Orange, Anson, Rowan, and Johnston, " divers dissolute, 
outrageous and disorderly persons" had attempted to deter the civil mag- 
istrates from the execution of their duty, and committed many acts of 
violence under the influence of wicked and designing men ; that the great- 
er number of the insurgents had laid down their arms and implored 
clemency, others had been legally convicted of their crimes, and a still 
greater number through fear of punishment had absconded, to the great 
injury of their families, and that, therefore, in compassion to the misguided 
multitude, he had determined to extend to all of them His Majesty's most 
gracious pardon, with the exception of James Hunter, Ninian Hamilton, 
Peter Craven, Isaac Jackson, Herman Husband, Mathew Hamilton, Wil- 
liam Payne, Ninian Bell Hamilton, Malachi Fyke, William Moffit, John 
O'Neal, Christopher Nation and Solomon Gross. 

330 War of the Regulation. [February 

To one of these outlawed and exiled men it is now proper to direct more 
particular attention, and endeavor to ascertain his true character. Ca- 
ruthers' estimate, founded upon the traditions, current in the country at 
the period of his researches, and Tryon's maledictions in official docu- 
ments, have been carefully collated in the preceding narrative. It is 
our purpose now to offer evidence in relation to him gleaned from contem- 
poraneous publications and unpublished historical documents, which have 
hitherto escaped observation. 

It will probably never be ascertained where and by whom Husband's 
"Impartial Relation " was printed, or who was the author of the "Fan 
for Fanning." With the exception of Judge Moore's brochure in opposi- 
tion to the Stamp Act, they are the only ante-revolutionary political pam- 
phlets which have come down to our times. 

The "Fan for Fanning" exhibits strong internal evidence that the au- 
thor was by birth a New England man. It was printed at Boston in 
1771. Shubal Stearns, to whom reference has been made as the founder 
of the Baptist Church at Sandy Creek, and of whom we will have occa- 
sion to speak more fully hereafter, was a native of Boston. Daniel Mar- 
shall, his brother-in-law and his able and faithful assistant in the ministry, 
was born in Connecticut. They were doubtless leaders of the religionists 
referred to by Governor Tryon, in 1765, as "a sect who call themselves 
New Lights, (not of the flock of Mr. Whitefield,) but Superior Lights 
from New England," and, in 1769, in representing the difficulties 
encountered by Mr. Fiske, "his parish, I am told, is full of Quakers and 
Ana-Baptists — the first no friends, and the latter avowed enemies, to tho 
mother church." 

The author of the " Fan for Fanning," whether a citizen of Boston or 
Sandy Creek, adopts Husbands' narrative throughout, and in addition to 
the leading facts in the " Impartial Relation," supplies personal incidents 
which must have been derived from familiar and intimate association with 
the author. In relation to the book and the writer, he states, " I have in 
my hands an account of all the affairs in Orange county in which place 
the Regulation has made the most noise. It was written by one who 
speaks thus of himself, viz: 'The tiuth of the whole cannot be denied,, 
but if it should, this I am sure of, that I never can be convicted, in my- 
self, wilfully and knowingly, either of having concealed a truth or of 
setting forth an untruth ; and, likewise, that I have been so well ac- 
quainted with the whole affair, that I think no man in the Province could 
give a better (that is, a more authentic,) relation of the matter.' " 

After this emphatic endorsement of the " Impartial Relation," he makes 
the following statement in connection with the personal history of the 
author, and his claims to respect and confidence: 

I860,] War of the Regulation. 381 

" It is often a question with readers, who is the author ? For answer 
in the present instance, I can inform them that the author above quoted, 
was esteemed a good, sensible and honest man in the place of his nativity. 
One anecdote of his life will give the reader an idea of the man. He is the 
eldest son of a reputable farmer, who died suddenly, possessed of a large 
landed interest, and without leaving a will ; which interest, by the lawa 
of the Province in which he had lived, fell to the eldest son, our anthor, 
who was, at the time of his father's death, in North Carolina, where he 
had, with much industry and care, made a good settlement for himself 
and family. Upon the death of the father, the rest of the children sent 
for their elder brother to come and take possession of, and settle their 
father's effects. He came, and finding that his father had made no will, 
said : ' It could never have been the intention of my father, that I should 
have all his landed estate.' Therefore, he sold the whole estate, save a 
small farm or tract, of about 200 acres, which his brothers and sisters .de- 
sired him to keep, and made due distribution of all the monies arising from 
sale of said hinds, to the great satisfaction of his brothers and sisters. 
This shows that he was a just man ; and one that loved virtue more than 
riches. I am the more pleased with this part of our author's character, 
as a similar conduct in the character of the great Philosopher, Doctor 
Francis Hutcheson, Professor in the University of Glasgow, is much mag- 
nified, and pointed out as a remarkable and almost singular instance of 

Prom this account by the personal friend and admirer of Husband, we 
may turn to autobiographical notices of his history exhibited incidentally 
in his own "Impartial Relation." We present, them, with such changes 
of phraseology and transposition of paragraphs as are necessary to unity 
and compactness of narration : 

"What a weak religion must it be that needs anything to support it, 
but what proceeds from voluntary consent and good will ! It is strange 
that the Christian religion cannot maintain its ground by the same means 
that it gained it." 

"I was educated myself in the principles of the Church of England, 
and have duly examined most other sects and cannot say that any of them 
is sounder or freer from error in their principles than she. But this* 
maintaining of the clergy by establishment, suppose it don't corrupt a 
true minister, yet it is the very course that makes ordinary, wicked, lazy 
men creep into orders purely for a livelihood, or ofiice of profit to get gain 
in an easy and lazy way." 

" It is said that the Governor represented us as a faction of Quakers 
and Baptists who aimed to overset the Church of JEngland, &c. This 
caused us to view ourselves, when we found our body to consist promise 

332 War of the Regulation. [February, 

cuously of all sects, and the men we put most trust in were of the Church 
of England communion. The formality of subscribing articles or swear- 
ing had never been in use since the Governor's secretary met us, and to 
prevent mobs and riots was our chief study as they were the only things 
that we found our enemies could get any advantage against us in, and 
what we believed they endeavored to drive the populace to." 

Both Husband and the author of the " Fan for Fanning " state ex- 
pressly that neither Husband nor the citizens of Sandy Creek concurred 
in, or had any knowledge until some time after the meeting, of the reso- 
lutions adopted by the inhabitants of the west side of Haw Paver on the 
22d of March, 1768. They insist moreover that the measures proposed 
by that meeting were considered rash and unlawful. They took pains to 
convince them of the danger of their course, without stifling their zeal for 
reform, and succeeded in inducing both settlements to unite in the forma- 
tion of the Association of the 4th of April, 1768, when the whole body 
of reformers organized under the name of Regulators. A reference to 
these articles will show that they entered into an Association " for regu- 
lating public grievances and abuses of power in the following particulars:" 

1. To pay no unlawful taxes, " unless we cannot help it or are forced." 

2. To pay no officer unlawful fees, "unless we are obliged to it, and then 
to show our dislike and bear open testimony against it." 3. To assemble 
as often as convenient " to consult our representatives," to choose suitable 
men for burgesses and vestrymen, "to petition the Houses of Assembly, 
Governor, Council, King and Parliament for redress of grievances." 4. 
To contribute the sum required for the necessary expenses of the associa- 
tion, "according to our abilities," and, othly, "That in case of difference 
in judgment we will submit to the judgment of the majority of us." 

The most searching scrutiny will fail to detect the semblance of sedi- 
tion or treason in this platform. Nay, more, it is impossible to examine 
it carefully in connection with the history of the times without being im- 
pressed with the patience, prudence and forbearance of these oppressed 
and persecuted men. Even the resolutions of the 22d of March, against 
which Husband and the followers of Shubal Stearns felt themselves called 
upon to protest, and which were subsequently denounced by the Sandy 
Creek Baptist Association, were not more violent than sentiments avowed 
and resolutions adopted by political meetings of the present day, in every 
section of the country, and on every side of every political question. 

Notwithstanding his disavowal of all connection with the Haw River 
meeting, Husband was indicted as having been one of the rioters, assem- 
bled on that occasion. His trial took place at March Term, 1769, of 
Orange Superior Court. On the 25th of April, Governor Tryon informs 
the Earl of Hillsborough that " Herman Husband who was, and is still, 

I860.] War of the Regulation. 38i» 

believed to have been at the bottom of the late disturbances took his trial 
at the Superior Court and was acquitted for want of proof." The cir- 
cumstances connected with his arrest and repeated imprisonment, on this 
charge are given in the language of the cotemporaneous author to whom 
we have referred as the friend and associate of the prisoner: 

" On the morning of the second day of May, 1768, about twelve men 
all armed with guns and pistols, entered the house of Mr. Herman Hus- 
band, through the back door. One of them immediately laid hold of said 
Husband, saying, 'you are the King's prisoner !' For what? asked Hus- 
band. ' On suspicion of being concerned in the Mob,' replied the captor ; 
and immediately hurried him off, not suffering him to take leave of his fam- 
ily. In travelling a little distance from Husband's house they fell in with 
Fanning, who was waiting for them, who treated the prisoner with contemp- 
tuous ridicule. Thus escorted they arrived at Hillsboro', where Husband, 
and Butler, whom we have mentioned before, were put into a fort, mounted 
with swivel guns, under a strong guard. From this place of confinement, 
after a few hours, Husband was taken before a magistrate, who charged him 
as follows, viz : ' Somebody hath informed against you, that there is 
cause of suspicion, of your having a hand in the mob.' Husband denied the 
charge; then Col. Fanning being called, and sworn, said ' that he (Fanning) 
formerly received a paper, summoning him to appear at a mill, and he 
thought it was Husband's hand writing.' ' And further, that he had receiv- 
ed a paper from the mob which referred to that paper.' Thomas Hogan 
was then sworn who said, that Husband had confessed that he had been at 
some meetings of the mob. Upon this, he was committed close prisoner to 
the common jail; where he contained till about midnight, when he was 
taken out, and tied with hands behind his back, and set on horseback, 
and tied with feet under the body of the horse, and led away, with design, 
as they said, who were the ministers of this cruel treatment, to hang him, 
without judge or jury. Husband, alarmed at this, desired to see Col. Fan- 
ning ; Fanning came, asked wherefore he had been sent for ; Husband ans- 
wered, ' if you will release me and set me free, I will promise not to con- 
cern myself any more, whether you take too large fees or not.' Upon 
which, Fanning says you must promise ' never to give your opinion of the 
laws, never to assemble yourself among the people, never to show any 
jealousies of the officer's taking extraordinary fees, and if ever you hear 
any speaking disrespectfully of the officers, or hinting jealousies respecting 
their fees, you will reprove and caution them, that you will tell the peo- 
ple you are satisfied all taxes are agreeable to law, that you will do every- 
thing in your power to moderate and pacify the people.' Ail which Hus- 
band promised ; alleging in his own favour that Duresse excused him 
from obligation." 

334 War of the Regulation. [February, 

The Governor, at the time he announced the dissolution of the Assem- 
bly — 6th of May — directed the election of members to a new one, to meet 
in New-Berne on the 5th of October. Shortly before the election, the 
Regulators published an address to the citizens of the Province, which in 
many respects contrasts favorably with productions emanating from the 
political conventions of modern times. We give the concluding para- 
graphs as indicative of the character of the author and the voters whose 
suffrages such sentiments and opinions were expected to command. Af- 
ter an enumeration of the grievances under which the Province had so 
long labored, the address proceeds as follows : 

"But you will say, what is the remedy against this malignant disease? 
I will venture to prescribe a sovereign one if duly applied; that is, as you 
have now a fit opportunity, choose fur your Representatives or Burgesses 
such men as have given you the strongest reason to believe they are truly 
honest — such as are disinterested, public spirited, who will not allow their 
private advantage once to stand in competition with the public good. You 
grant the prescription is sovereign: but how shall you obtairi such? I 
answer : Let your judgment be formed on their past conduct; let them be 
such as have been unblamable in life, independent in their fortunes, without 
expectations from others; let them be such as enjoy no places of benefit 
under the goverment; such as do not depend upon favour for their living, 
nor derive profit or advantage from the intricate perplexity of the law. 

" In short, let them be men whose private interest neither doth nor can 
clash with the interest or special good of their country. Are you not sen- 
sible, brethren, that we have too long groaned in secret under the weight 
of these crushing mischiefs ? How long will ye in this servile manner 
subject yourselvs to slavery? Now shew yourselves to be free men, and 
for once assert your liberty and maintain your rigl ts. This, this election 
let us exert ourselves, and show, that we will not through fear, favour or 
affection, bow and subject ourselves to those who, under the mask of friend- 
ship, have long drawn calamities upon us. Should we now through fear 
or favour act as we have done, contrary to duty and interest; so far as we 
do this, we contribute to all the mischief consequent upon it. Where then 
is that moving principle, self-preservation ? Will you, can you, voluntarily 
submit yourselves to ignominy and want ? These will agrandize them- 
selves and swim in opulence. Have they not monopolized your proper- 
ties ; and what is wanting but time to draw from you the last farthing ! 
Who that has the spirit of a man could endure this? Who that has 
the least spark of love to his country or to himself would bear the delu- 
sion ? In a special manner then, let us, at this election rouse all our pow- 
ers to act like free public spirited men, knowing that he that betrays tha 
cause now betrays his country, and must sink in the general ruin." 

I860.] War of Oie Regulation. 335 

The result of the election was the return of more than thirty new mem- 
bers. The House was an able one. Robert Howe, of Brunswick, Sani'l 
Johnston, of Chowan, Thomas Person, of Granville, Abram Alexander 
and Thomas Polk, of Mecklenburg, Herman Husband, of Orange, John 
Ashe and James Moore, of New Hanover, John Harvey, of Perquimans, 
Griffith Rutherford, and Matthew Locke, of Rowan, Maurice Moore, from 
the town of Brunswick, Richard Caswell, of New-Berne, and Cornelius 
Harnett, of Wilmington, are all familiar names to the student of revolu- 
tionary history. The House of Commons, as at present constituted, con- 
sists of one hundred and twenty, instead of eighty members, as in 1769, 
but does any one remember to have seen in this branch of the General 
Assembly, in modern times, fourteen members of greater practical wisdom, 
purer patriotism or higher civil and military renown ? 

The Assembly met at New-Berne, on the 23 d of October. John Harvey, 
on motion of Richard Caswell, was unanimously appointed Speaker. 

The Governor probably met the present Assembly under the hope and 
expectation that by gentleness and forbearance he would soften and allay 
the prejudices and apprehensions with respect to the recent measures of 
Parliament, in relation to taxation, which he knew pervaded every portion 
of the Province. However this may have been, he soon found that the 
opposition to the government was universal and invincible. The repre- 
sentatives of the southern district were no less unanimously opposed to 
the new imposition upon commerce than they were to the Stamp Act. A 
majority of the members, from the Granville Patent, to the common cause 
added new issues of a more imposing character. Yv r ith them the rallying 
cry was not merely resistance to taxation, but, for the first time in our 
history, they were prepared to assert the principles of religious as well as 
civil liberty. 

The Governor's speech at the opening of the session, after proper refer- 
ences to the various subjects of ordinary legislation which would require 
their attention, concludes with stating that he was authorized to assure 
them that the King's ministers had at no time entertained a design to 
propose to Parliament the imposition of further taxes on the colonies for 
the purpose of raising a revenue, and that it was their intention to recom- 
mend the repeal of the obnoxious duties on glass, paper and colors, as 
having been imposed in violation of the principles of commerce. 

The temper of the House is very clearly indicated in the reply. They 
remark that the information he has been pleased to afford them of the 
intention of the King's ministers was very grateful to them, and would be 
much more so when they should find these designs carried into execution, 
3ven upon the consideration that the duties designed to be repealed were 
mposed contrary to the true principles of commerce. 

33C War of the Regulation. [February, 

On the 9th day of the session — 2d of November — the Speaker placed 
before the House a communication from the House of Burgesses of Vir- 
ginia, lated on the 9th of May. The character of the discussion which 
ensued may be inferred from the resolutions adopted, and the subsequent 
correspondence with the Governor. Having no immediate access to the 
unpublished journal of that session, we present the summary account of 
it given by Martin : 
The house came t to a unanimous resolution, that the sole right of impo- 
sing taxes on the inhabitants of the province, was, and had ever been, le- 
gally and constitutionally vested in the house of assembly, lawfully coven- 
ed according to the ancient and established practice, with the consent of 
the council and the king, or his governor; that it was the undoubted priv- 
ilege of the inhabitants of the province, to petition the king for the redress 
of grievances, and it was lawful and expedient, to procure the concurrence 
of the other colonies, in dutiful addresses, praying the royal interposition, 
in favor of the violated rights of America; and that all trials for treason, 
misprision of it, felony or any other crime, committed in the colony, by 
any person residing in it, ought, of right, to be in one of the king's courts, 
held there according to its fixed and known rules of proceeding; and that 
seizing any inhabitant on suspicion of any crime committed in the pro- 
vince, to be sent beyond sea for trial, was highly derogatory to the rights 
of the British subjects, as thereby, the inestimable privilege of being tried 
by a jury of the vicinage, as well as the liberty of summoning and produc- 
ing witnesses, at the trial, was taken away from the party accused. 

An address was prepared for the king. It began with assurances that 
his subjects, in North Carolina, were distinguished by their loyalty and 
firm attachment to him and his ancestors, were far from countenancing 
treasons, and ready at any time to sacrifice their lives and fortunes in de- 
fence of his person and government. It expressed the deepest concern, 
and heartfelt grief of the house, that their loyalty had been traduced, and 
those measures which a just regard for the British constitution made neces- 
sary duties, had been misrepresented, as rebellious attacks on his govern- 

The house next observed, that, when they considered, that, by the 
established laws and constitution of the colony, the most ample provision 
was made, for apprehending and punishing any person who should dare 
to engage in any treasonable practice, or disturb the tranquility of govern- 
ment, they could not, without horror, think of the new, unusual, illegal 
and unconstitutional mode, recommended to the king, of seizing and carry- 
ing beyond the sea, the inhabitants of America, suspected of any crime, 
to be tried in any manner contrary to the ancient and long established 
course of proceeding ; they pitied the deplorable situation of an American, 

I860.] War of the Regulation. 837 

who, having iaeurred the displeasure of any person in power, might be 
dragged from his native home and his dearest domestic connexions, thrown 
into a prison, not to await his trial before a judge or a jury, from a knowl- 
edge of whom, he might be encouraged to hope for speedy justice; but 
to exchange his imprisonment in his own country, for fetters among stran- 
gers, conveyed to a distant land, where no friend nor relative would alle- 
viate his distresses or minister to his necessities, and where no witness 
could be found to testify his innocence, shunned by the respectable and 
honest, and consigned to the society and converse of the wretched and 
abandoned, he could only pray them to end his misery with his life. 

Truly alarmed at the fatal tendency of these pernicious councils, and 
with hearts filled with anguish, by invasions so ingenious of their dearest 
privileges, the house prostrated themselves at the foot of the throne, be- 
seeching the king, as their sovereign and father, to avert, from his faithful 
and loyal subjects, the miseries which must necessarity be the conse- 
quences of such measures. 

The address concluded, by expressing the firm confidence of the house, 
in the royal wisdom and goodness, and assurances that the daily prayers 
of his people in the province, were addressed to the Almighty; that he 
might, Jong and prosperously, reign over Cireat Britain and his other 
dominions; and that, after death, he might taste the fullest fruition of 
eternal bliss; and that one of his descendants might wield the sceptre over 
the extended British empire, till time should be no more. 

The Governor informed the house by message that some of the resolves 
on their journals, after the assurances he had given them in his speech, 
had sapped the foundation of confidence and gratitude, torn up by the 
root every sanguine hope he had entertained to render the province any 
further service, if he had rendered it any, and made it his indispensable 
duty to put an end to the session. 

The house replied that his assurances at the opening of the session, of 
the repeal of certain acts, so contrary to the interests both of Great Britain 
and America, had the repeal of them been in his power, would have been 
a certainty, upon which the house could jiot but have relied, without in- 
deed sapping the foundation of confidence and gratitude, and justly for- 
feiting all title to his future favor and services ; but as those assurancen 
were in consequence of expectation formed on the intentions of ministers 
to recommend such repeals to Parliament, who might not be in place at 
the next meeting of that body, the house could not but think it a duty 
they indispensably owed to their constituents, to express their disappro- 
bation of acts and measures, in their apprehension, grievous and unconsti- 
tutional. To this motive alone, they begged him to impute these resolves 
and not to a loss of confidence in him, or a want of a very grateful remein- 


S38 War of the Regulation. [February,, 

branee of the signal services he had rendered to the province; and they 
took this opportunity of declaring to the world that the benefit which had 
accrued to the province from his administration had excited in their bo- 
soms the warmest sensations of gratitude, and would deservedly obtain for 
him the blessings of posterity. 

The Governor answered he was sorry to observe the house had founded 
their late conduct on a jealousy of the intention of the ministers, who 
might not be in office at the next meeting of Parliament. He assured 
them he had received the sentiment which he had communicated as the 
voice of the crown, and did not believe a change in the ministry would 
produce any in the measures adopted by the king's present servants. 

The characteristic letter from Governor Tryon to the Earl of Hillsbo- 
rough, dated 22d of November, 1769, will illustrate with sufficient clear- 
ness the brief but proud history of the fifteen days during which his arbi- 
trary spirit brooked and tolerated the utterance of liberal principles. The 
petition of the citizens of Tryon, found among the papers of the late 
Waightstill Avery, and endorsed in his well-known hand writing, and of 
the citizens of Kowan and Orange, presented by Herman Husband, as 
well as the letter of Governor Tryon, referred to above are now published 
for the first time. They exhibit the expanding causes of dissension, and 
the new issues between the people and the government, in a very differ- 
ent light from that ordinarily reflected upon them by the most accurate of 
our historians : 

Brunswick, 22d November, 1769. 

I am to inform your Lordship by a vessel that sails to-morrow from- this 
river for Hull, that I opened the General Assembly of this province on 
Monday the 23d of October, and that on Thursday, the second of thi3 
month, the House of Assembly, without the least previous knowledge of 
their intention being communicated to me, unanimously adopted and en- 
tered upon their journal some resolves, with an address to his Majesty, 
similar to what was framed by the House of Burgesses of Virginia, in 
May last. 

As the address of the Assembly in answer to my speech had been pre- 
pared some days before this transaction, and only waited till my health 
would permit me to receive it ; I sent to the House on Friday the 3d of 
November, to present their address to which I made a reply. Saturday, 
the 4th, I ordered the clerk of the House of Assembly, to wait on me 
with the votes of that House, where finding the above-mentioned resolves 
and address entered their upon joxirnals, about noon the same day I sent for 
the immediate attendance of the House, and expressed to them my senti- 
ments of their conduct, but postponed the dissolution of the Assembly 

I860.] War of the Regulation. 339 

till Monday, as I understood they had a bill preparing for the appointment 
of an agent agreeable to the form prescribed by his Majesty. 

On Monday morning, the 6th, the House of Assembly sent me a mes- 
sage, a copy of which I enclose, together with my answer. At three I 
went to the Council Chamber, and sent to require the immediate attend- 
ance of the House, when, in a speech, I dissolved the General Assembly, 
after passing a bill for the appointment of Mr. Henry Eustace McCulloch 
agent for this province for two years, with three other bills. 

By the advice of His Majesty's Council writs for a new election are not 
to issue till the first of February next, the elections to be made the 12th 
of March, and the Assembly to meet at New-Berne the first week in May, 
before which period, I much wish to be honored with his Majesty's fur- 
ther commands, and to hear of the repeal of those acts of Parliament lay- 
ing duties on paper, glass and colors in America. 

This province appears to be in a stricter union with Virginia than with 
any other colony, and I believe will steadily pursue the public conduct of 
that colony. 

I arrived here last Monday, leaving my secretary at New-Berne to col- 
lect the journals of the House of Assembly and other public papers, in 
order that they may be transmitted as early as possible to your Lordship's 
office. This is my apology for sending your Lordship at this time printed 
copies of the principal transactions of the last Assembly. 

I beg leave here to acknowledge the receipt of your Lordships letters 
up to No. 25 inclusive. I have endeavored to comply with the directions 
contained in them. 

I am, my Lord, with much respect and real esteem, your Lordship 
most obedient, &c. 



To His Excellency William Tryon, Governor and Commander in Chief 
in and over this His Majesty's Province of North Carolina; the Hon- 
orable His Majesty's Council ; and gentlemen of the General Assembly 
of this Province : 

The petition of the inhabitants of Tryon county, being of the Presbyte- 
rian denomination, humbly sheweth that we your petitioners humbly con- 
ceive that we have been much aggrieved for some years last past by an act 
concerning marriages. 

1. By the preamble wherein it is set forth that the ministers of our 
profession not considering themselves included and restrained by the laws 
theretofore made and provided, did fraudulently and unlawfully celebrate 

340 War of the Regulation. [February , 

marriage without license or publication of banns. This charge we do aver 
is wrongfully thrown upon us. We are sorry that a report so seandalous 
to us and injurious to that reputation we desire always to maintain haa 
ever once been believed. The practice had not then, nor at any other 
time before obtained among us. The constitution of our church requires 
thrice publication of banns, in common with our brethren of the church of 
England; and if any minister presumes to join persons in wedlock with- 
out license or publication of banns he brings himself under the penalty of 
a total suspension from his office by the rules of our church. 

2. By the eighth and ninth sections of this act our ministers are forbid 
to marry with rightful publication of banns — a privilege which a million 
of our fellow professors in America now enjoy, whose ancestors have en- 
joyed ever since they settled on this continent; neither was it ever taken 
from any dissenters in America until it was taken from us by this act of 
which we now complain. We pray and beseech you, therefore, to restore 
us back to the enjoyment of this privilege, in common with our neighbor- 
ing provinces. Let us not, we intreat, be the only persons to whom it 
is denied. Our hopes, trust and confidence is that in your wisdom, after 
due consideration had, you will alter the several clauses complained of, 
and permit our clergy to celebrate marriage, with publication of banns, 
and your petitioners as in duty bound shall ever pray. 


To his Excellency William Tryon, Esq., Captain General, Governor, and 
Commander in Chief in and over the Province of Worth Carolina ; To 
the Honorable the members of His Majesty's Council ; Mr. Speaker and 
Gentlemen of the House of Assembly : 

The humble petition of us inhabitants of Orange and Rowan counties, 
true and faithful subjects of His Majesty King George III, sheweth : 

That we your petitioners do now and long have labored under many 
and heavy exactions, oppressions and enormities, committed on us by Court 
officers in every station — the source of which our said calamity we impute 
to the countenance and protection they receive from such of our lawyers 
and clerks as have obtained seats in the House of Representatives, and 
who, iutent on making their own fortunes, are blind to, and solely regard- 
less of their country's interest, are ever planning such schemes, or project- 
ing such laws, as may best effect their wicked purposes; (witness the 
summons and petitions act, calculated purely to enrich themselves and 
creatures, at the expense of the poor and industrious peasant, besides a 
certain air of confidence, a being part of the Legislature, gives these gen- 
tlemen to the perpetration of every kind of enormity, within reach of 
their respective offices ;) and seeing numbers cither from interested views, 
for the sake of treats, or from some- other sordid motive, are still so in- 

18G0.] War of the Regulation. 841 

fatuated and will be as to vote for these gentleman whereby to advance 
them to that important trust, though themselves and family sink as a con- 
sequence, and seing those inconsiderate wretches involve your poor peti- 
tioners, together with thousands of other honest, industrious families 
in the common destruction j we therefore humbly implore your Excel- 
lency, your honors and your worships, in the most supplicating manner, 
to consider of and pass an act to prevent, and effectually restrain, all 
and every lawyer and clerk whatsoever from offering themselves as candi- 
dates at any future election of Delegates within the Province, and in case 
any such should be chosen the choice shall be utterly void in the same 
manner as the law now allows in case of sheriffs being elected. 

And may it please you to consider of and pass an act whereby to allow 
clerks of the court and crown, &c, certain yearly stated salaries instead of 
perquisites, making it highly penal for any clerk to demand, or even to 
receive, directly or indirectly, any fee, gift or reward, under color of his 
office, any other than his certain stated salary, and in order to raise the 
said salary, may it please you to lay a certain fine of so much in the pound 
on every action brought to trial, with half so much on such as are com- 
promised before issue joined, as to you in your great wisdom shall seem meet, 
which said fines shall be collected at the same time and in the same man- 
ner with all other taxes. 

And may it please you to consider of and pass an act effectually to 
restrain lawyers from demanding, or even receiving, any other or greater 
fee or reward than is now established by the laws of this Province, with 
only half so much for all such actions as shall be compromised before trial. 
And as we humbly conceive the fees now allowed by law are highly suffi- 
cient, and that any other or greater fee were oppression and cruelty, and 
can serve no other purpose than to enrich one part of his Majesty's sub- 
jects and beggar the other, we therefore beseech you to make such severe 
act, in order to restrain such open violation of the laws as to you in your 
great wisdom shall seem meet. 

And seeing the now acting clerks have, notwithstanding their many 
enormities, so fortified themselves against all the laws now in force, as to 
render themselves invulnerable to prosecutions, partly from their own 
superior cunning and partly from our invincible ignorance : we humbly 
beseech you to take the same under your serious consideration, and for 
our relief to pass an act to cashier all the now acting clerks, and fill their 
places with gentlemen of probity and integrity; and may it please you to 
insert some clause in said act, prohibiting judges, lawyers or sheriffs from 
fingering any of their fees, directly or indirectly, until the cause, suit or 
action, on the which the said fee is due be brought to a final determina- 
tion, and (hut all obligations for more than the legal fee to be void in law; 

342 War of tas Regulation. [February, 

this measure will, wc hope, effectually prevent those odious delays in jus- 
tice so destructive, yet fatally common among us. 

And may it please you to grant us a repeal of the act prohibiting dis- 
senting ministers from marrying according to the decretals, rites and cer- 
emonies of their respective churches — a privilege they are debarred of in 
no other part of his Majesty's dominions, and as we humbly conceive, a 
privilege they stand entitled to by the Act of Toleration ; and in, fine, a 
privilege granted even to the very Catholics in Ireland, and the Protes- 
tants in France. 

And may it please you to consider of and pass an act to divide the sev- 
eral counties within this Province into proper districts, appointing a col- 
lector in each to raise and collect the several taxes laid and to be laid by 
law, who shall be accountable and make all returns to a county officer to be 
nominated for that purpose, and who shall settle and account annually 
with the Assembly. This method will, we humbly conceive, effectually 
prevent the sheriffs from robbing and plundering the country, and spend- 
ing their ill-got gains in riot, purchasing estate, or bearing off the same 
into other Provinces, as they frequently do, to our unspeakable prejudice, 
who are obliged to make good the deficiency. 

And may it please you to consider of and pass an act to tax every one 
in proportion to his estate, for however equitable the law as it now stands 
may appear to the inhabitants of the maritime parts of the Province, 
where estates consist chiefly in slaves, yet to us, in the frontier, where 
very few are possessed of slaves, though their estates are in proportion ii 
many instances, as of one thousand to one, for all to pay equal, is wit! 
submission, very grievous and oppressive. 

We beseech you to consider of a repeal of the summons and petition 
act — an act replete with misery and ruin to the lowest class of people 
throughout the Province ; and may it please you to pass in lieu thereof an 
act to impower a single magistrate to try and determine as high as five or 
six pounds, without appeal, assisted by a jury of six men, if demanded by 
either of the contending parties. 

We further beseech you to consider of and pass an act to make inspec- 
tor's notes on unperishable commodities, of the produce of this Province, 
a lawful tender, at stated prices, in all payments throughout the Province, 
as such terders, we humbly conceive, will not in an any shape, interfere 
with his Majesty's instructions, or with an act of Parliament, prohibiting 
any further emissions of paper currency in any of his Majesty's colonies 
or plantations in America. 

And may it please you to grant us a division of the county ; great in- 
conveniences as well as expense, attend our distance from the courts of 
justice; and we humbly conceive such division cannot be prejudicial to 

I860.] War of the Ee<ptt«ticm. S43 

any number of persons whatever, and if obtained through your candor 
would confer the highest benefit on your poor petitioners. 

We beseech you to consider of some proper staple or staples of the 
manufacture or produce of the country, to answer foreign demands ; would 
not (with submission) potash be a fine article to answer the British mar- 
kets? and, in a country abounding in wood, the very ashes now thrown 
away might, with encouragement, (if manufactured) be a saving of some 
thousands per annum to the Province, and render voyages to Riga, Narva, 
and Dantzick, from Great Britain for that useful commodity needless. 

And seeing the state of the sinking fund is a mystery that exercises the 
ablest heads among us, and according to the best calculation hitherto 
made £27,000 (besides what is now afloat,) was collected from the Province 
at the payment of the tax for the year 1767, more than has ever been 
emitted ; and as we humbly conceive the said sums are now in the hands 
of the treasurer, sheriffs, and other oflicers, to the great prejudice of the 
country of whom those sums are re-demanded : We therefore humbly im- 
plore you to make diligent inquiries into the several departments and in- 
form yourselves justly of the sums raised, by whom, and to what uses ap- 
plied ; as also enquire strictly into the sums remitted from England, the 
quantity and disbursement of the same; in like manner inform yourselves 
how Starkey's notes have been disposed of, and whether the Province 
has been charged therewith in common with other emissions, which we 
should not, as his Majesty never assented to the act for striking said notes. 

Lastly, we humbly implore you to have your yeas and nays inserted in 
the journals of your House and copies of such journals, transmitted along 
with the copies of the acts to every Justice that by this means we may have 
an opportunity to distinguish our friends from our foes among you, and 
to act accordingly at any future choice. And by granting us these just, 
wholesome and necessary laws, you will heal the bleeding wounds of the 
Province — will conciliate the minds of your poor petitioners, to every just 
measure of government, will make the laws what the constitution ever de- 
signed they should be, our protection and not our bane, and will cause 
joy, gladness, glee, and prosperity diffusively to spread themselves through 
every quarter of this extensive Province, from Virginia to the South and 
from the western hills to the Atlantic ocean. And your petitioners, as in 
duty bound, shall ever pray. 

Some of the grievances complained of and remedies proposed by these 
I rustic reformers, at their first enunciation are well calculated to produce a 
Ismile, if not to provoke ridicule. More deliberate consideration in con- 
nection with contemporaneous history may give rise to very different emo- 
tions. The careful reader will be surprised to find the extent to which 
the seemingly crude theories of these backwoods philosophers influenced 

844 War of the Regulation. [February, 

our subsequent legislation and impressed themselves on our organic laws. 
Various provisions in the constitution of 1776 catmot be clearly compre- 
hended without accurate acquaintance with this portion of our history. 
We will have occasion to refer to the adoption of these principles as they 
present themselves from time to time. At present, we will content our- 
selves with a brief reference to the propositions to render lawyers ineligi- 
ble to the Legislature and to restrain judges, lawyers and sheriffs from 
illegal collection of fees. These are probably without a parallel in En- 
glish or American history except in the code of Jack Cade, and yet the 
causes which gave rise to them may well suggest the enquiry whether 
there may not have been more justification for the course of that summary 
statesman than we would infer from the Shakesperian chronicle. 

As a general rule the history of civilization the world over shews that 
lawyers have been the earliest and most earnest advocates of civil liberty. 
That there are some exceptions may be reasonably inferred from the 
following statements : 

Governor Dobbs entered upon the duties of his office in the autumn of 
1754. He was an Irishman, had been a member of the Irish Parliament, 
was a man of letters, generous impulses, and very moderate abilities. He 
brought with him a number of his relations and countrymen, who came 
with high hopes and expectations of official promotion, and lucrative em- 
ployment. The community were not long in arriving at the conclusion 
that the modest adventurers succeeded at least in proportion to their 
merits. He gave offices to as many as could be provided for in that way 
and when nothing better could be done, license to practice law, without 
previous study, was a common boon. In 1760, we find the Assenibtyjcom- 
plaining of his granting licenses to ignorant applicants for the sum of four 
pistoles, and of the evils arising from the erroneous decisions of lay Judges. 
They referred, among other instances, to the fact that corporal punish- 
ment had been inflicted by one of them, the nephew of the Governor, on 
an innocent person, without a trial by jury, contrary to law and in viola- 
tion of the great charter of English liberties. 

The present Assembly was dissolved too suddenly to admit of the dis- 
cussion of any one of the measures of reform proposed by the Eegulators. 
We copy from the records of the succeeding Assembly the resolution and 
report adopted on the 3d of January, 1771, at which time, as it will be 
seen hereafter, Col. Fanning having deposed Herman Husband, had 
thrown himself at the head of the Reformers. The judges had apologized 
for his extortions and it was meet and proper that he should in turn jus- 
tify the peculations of the Chief Justice. • 

"Order of the day, the act for regulating officers' fees, passed in the year I 
1748. Resolved that the fee of 3*. to the Chief Justice for every writ,] 

I860.] War of the Regulation. 845 

and the fee of 2c?, for docketing the said writ, the fee of 2s. for a venire in 
every cause, the fee of Is. for every subpoena, the fee of 6c?. for every rule 
and order, not actually made and entered, the fee of 2s. for every execu- 
tion, the fee of 2s. 8c?. for every bill of cost, the fee of 3s. 8c?. for every 
original attachment (unless the Chief Justice signs it himself,) and the 
fee of 3s. 8c?. for every sciere facias are abrogated and obsolete. 

The House considering "the several fees taxed for the Chief Justice on 
services formerly literally performed, but by the changes gradually wrought 
through a considerable lapse of time by different laws respecting the mode 
of issuing process and regulating the mode of proceeding become disused 
and obsolete though constantly and uniformly charged by all his prede- 

" Resolved, That this House have a high and just sense of the integrity 
and probity of the present Chief Justice (Mr. Howards') official conduct 
and deportment, and that for the reasons aforesaid, he stands in the opin- 
ion of the members of this House, acquitted from every the least impu- 
tation of fraud or injustice for the receipt of any fees by him for any of 
the services referred to in the report of the committee." 

In the present as in the previous chapter, we have preferred that the 
actors on both sides shall, where practicable, relate their own story in their 
own language, rather than substitute glosses or paraphrases of our own. 
We esteem ourselves fortunate in thus far having had at our command 
authentic documents, in relation to all the leading facts connected with 
this hitherto obscure era in our annals. 

346 The Psalms. [February 


An Extract from an Address on Hebrew Poetry, delivered by Robert 

P. Dick, Esq., before the " Fayetteville Female High School," July 

6th, 1859. 

There is no poetry like the Psalms. They have a living beauty and 
depth of pathos which can never be excelled, and will always wake the 
highest and holiest harmonies of the human heart. They indeed are 
immortal I The Iliad and Odyssey, the JEnead and Odes of Horace, the 
Divina Commedia and Paradise Lost, are as immortal as humau language, 
but when they perish, the Psalms will be sung by the angels in Paradise, 
for they are the songs of God. 

For more than a thousand years they were the joy of Zion — the glory 
of Jerusalem; and how grandly did they rise in the magnificent temple 
service to the sound of the psaltery and harp, swept by the hands of 
Korah's tuneful sons. They fired the genius of the ancient prophets as 
they poured forth their sublime rhapsodies to rebellious Israei and diso- 
bedient Judah. They gladdened the solitude of the simple Hebrew 
shepherd as he lead his flocks through " the green pastures and beside the 
still waters" of his Heaven blest home, and the dark eyed daughters of 
Zion knew no sweeter minstrelsy than that which the Royal Minstrel sung. 
They called up sweet memories aad bright hopes in the sad hearts of the 
captive Israelite, as weeping he sat by the dark waters of Babel and tuned 
his plaintive harp to sing one of the loved songs of his fatherland. 

When the great Macedonian Conqueror came sweeping like a besom of 
destruction over the decaying empires of the East, these sacred songs 
were soon translated into the beautifully poetic language of Greece, and 
were scattered like precious gems over all the nations of the Orient. They 
were the admiration of the disbelieving Gentile, and roused the patriotic 
pride of the exiled Jew in the land of the Ptolemies, among the classic 
groves of Greece, and amid the proud palaces of the seven-hilled city of the 

The Psalms often engaged the thoughts of Christ and his Apostles as 
they held holy converse in the wilderness and on the mountains of Judea, 
and while wandering through the blooming and fruitful valley of the 
Jordan, and while resting upon the calm bosom of Gennesaret, as it slept 
beneath the star-lit skies of Galilee. They were the cradle songs which 
soothed the infant church of Christ; they were the vesper hymns of the 
pious Waldenses in the quiet vales of the beautiful Piedmont ; they kin- 
dled the enthusiasm of the chivalric Crusader as he pressed forward amid 
the arrows of the pestilence and the storm of battle, to the rescue of the 

18*60.] The Psalm *- ^ 

Holy Land; they were the war-notes of the bold Reformer, while he 
Toused Europe from her spiritual lethargy and defied the pealing thunders 
of the Vatican ; in wild and thrilling cadence, they echoed from the glens 
and caverns of Scotland, where the stern covenanter, fearing nought but 
God, was preparing to die for the freedom of his faith; they were the farewell 
strains of the Pilgrim Fathers, as they left their kindred and country, and 
in holy rapture they rose amid the whistling gale from the deck of the 
Mayflower as she breasted the billows of the stormy Atlantic, and they 
broke the stillness of the American wilderness and hallowed the land of 
•our fathers. Like the choiring of the cherubim, they floated along the 
ibloody Ganges, and triumphantly did they swell from trusting hearts 
which quailed not at the -martyr's cry of agony, and the Sepoy's vengeful 

The Psalms have been heard amid the icy palaces of the frozen North, 
where the aurora borealis is gleaming; in the far distant isles of the South- 
ern seas, where the ever-green woodlands bud and bJ° ssom beneath the 
pathway of the sun ; like angel visitants, with glad music on their wings, 
they have entered the stately homes of the great, and the humble cottages 
of the poor, and illumined with heavenly Tadiance the fading eye of the 
dying saint ; they have nerved the heart of the suffering captive hero in 
his lonely dungeon, and sustained the fainting martyr at the fiery stake. 

The Psalms have *been translated into "more than a hundred different 
■languages — they have added glory and beauty to all Christian literature, 
-and they are the pure and holy fountains from which the great bards of 
•modern times have drunk their waters of inspiration which has made them 
immortal, and given to their genius the magic touch that thrills with 
•ecstacy the mystic strings of the human heart. 

Wherever the foot of civilized man has trod, these olden songs have 
gone with their consolation. and joy, and although they have passed thro' 
the revolutions and changes of more than three thousand years, they have 
the same vitality and freshness now as when they first gushed from the 
fervid hearts of the old Hebrew bards among the beautiful hills and valleys 
of the Promised Land. 

Thanks be unto Him who rules the destinies of the world, that the time 
will come when these songs of Zion shall be heard in every land, and every 
•tongue shall sing their praises unto Israel's God. 

348 Farewell to Alma Mater. [Februaf y, 


An Epistle to Mr. , Senior Sophister, 


Dear D , (your foreign name my verse defies,) 

In melancholy mood your Talbot writes ; 
Would he could cry, as one before him cries, 

His pen obedient, as his heart indites ; 
But now his gloom no muse propitious lights ; 

His Pegasus of late, the sorry nag, 
Has got so restive in his humble flights, 

That often for a rhyme he now must lag, 
And spite of whip and spur still falter will and flag. 

Yet onward still the jaded steed I urge, 

And pen reluctant in bad ink immerse, 
If that's the proper word, if not immerge, 

For I must—humph ! there is no rhyme but curse, 

Bid Alma Mater long adieu in verse ; 
Which verses, when in private you have read, 

Sit on West-Building steps and loud rehearse ; 
Proclaim in tones enough to rouse the dead \ 

From Carolina's soil, that Talbot Brains hath fled. 

Then let T cry, with rueful broAV, 

And eye upturn'd and fist upon his breast, 
Ye who have tears prepare to shed them now 1 

Lo ! mighty Brains, by direful Fate's behest 

Impell'd, now sorrowing seeks the distant West ; 
Oh Grief ! perhaps e'en now he just attains 

The summit high of Alleghany's crest, 
And casts a last look on his native plains ! 
Alas ! and art thou gone, oh Talbot, Talbot Brains. 

No more alas ! he breathes Boeotian air, 

He journeys swiftly toward the valley broad, 
Primeval wooded, through whose bosom fair 

The Sire of Rivers rolls his mighty flood 
In majesty along; whose virgin sod, 

Yet unprofaned, enshrines no human clay, 
Save of a race unknown, that whilom trod 

The earth they now compose — and past away, 

Leaving no monument their name or deeds to say. 

The same cold silence that dwells in their tombs, 
Broods with dark pinion o'er their untold tale ; 

No ray historic its mute page illumes ; 

And ne'er shall mortal vision pierce the veil 
Of mystery, which 'in oblivion pale, 

* We are indebted to a distinguished scholar cf this State for the privilege of 
ublishing the following poem. It was written in 1831 by the late Phillh* 
V. Alston, then of Edenton, and has never been published before. 


I860.] Farewell to Alma Mater. 349 

Forever wraps their origin and date ; 

Fancy shrinks mute — e'en must conjecture fail, 
Powerless its misty shroud to penetrate, 
To trace an outline dim of their mysterious fate. 

We know indeed they fought — no other trace 

Exists — but signs of slaughter still remain ; 
Needless disclosure! when, where breathed the race, 

Where Man ne'er sought to kill his fellow-man? 

The remnants of no temple strew the plain, 
But ruins still exist, for War designed 1 

This people then inherited, 'tis plain, 
The brute propensities of all their kind, 
But left to future days no monument of mind. 

They lived ; they fought ;they died ; we know no more ; 

Ask we, Whence came they ? Whither have they fled ? 
Sprang they from exiles of the Syrian shore? 

Or from the Cambrian band that Madocledf 

What Poets starved — what mighty Warriors bled? 
What tcere their deeds in arts or arms ? Alas 1 

We know their living only by their dead ; 
And they are mute as the sepulchral grass 
Born of their clay — to which it soon again must pass. 

Grave lesson to the worshipers of Fame ! 

Approach — and in their fate behold your own ! 
Their heroes fought for an eternal name, 

Their poets wrote for readers yet unborn ; 

And yet their battles and their rhymes unknown, 
Must sleep for aye in cold Oblivion's cell : 

Their names, their people, e'en their language gone, 
No lone memento has escaped to tell 
What tuneful brethren sung, what warriors nobly fell. 

Ay ! and the far-off epoch I foresee, 

Which, distant though it be, must yet arrive, 
When mighty Bacon shall forgotten be, 

And Locke's and Newton's names shall cease to live; 

When Grattan's, Washington's shall not survive ; 

When Shakspeare's, Spenser's, Milton's — all that give 
Glory to empires, lustre to their age, 
Byron's, e'en Talbot's last and greatest personage. 

Yes, each and all must perish : for of rhyme 

And reason all the changes have been rung ; 
Unless another leaf is turn'd by time, 

Life will be but a tame, dull farce ere long ; 

Those folks foregone have wrought us grievous wrong, 
For, doing all, they left us nought to do; 

Pass some few years, in science or in song; 
Beneath the sun there can be nothing new — 
And men will pray for more dark ages to ensue. 

Indeed it would be well, ('twere easy shown,) 

If, f ave the Scriptures, all our books were burn'd ; 
All instruments were into ^Etna thrown, 

350 Farewell to Alma Mater. [February, 

And everything forgot that e'er was learned ; 

Man to his goal of ignorance return'd, 
Another race of knowledge then would rush on ; 

Each son of science with fair wreath adorn'd, 
As on he trudged another's heels would crush on, 
And "coruscations" bright stiike forth at each "concussion." 

This point I would dilate on 5 but I find 

To suit the important topic that I lack words ; 
You may look wise, and talk of " march of mind," 

Soon must it march, in Irish fashion, backwards ; 

This "march of mind," &c, are the crack-words 
Of th' age ; from every tyro's mouth they're bandied ; 

Scarcely I find & rhyme, although I rack words 
To patch one up ; and here I'm fairly stranded ; 
But at the stanza's end at length I'm safely landed. 

Hum ! Where am I ?=-Pray pardoa the digression ^ 

A rhyme refractory too often forces 
Me in a train of thinking, whose expression 

Abstracts me from the subject. Rhymes of verses 

The rudders are, by which thoughts steer their courses 
(So Butler says,) thus oft I must be guided 

Into digression, till a thought divorces 
Me from its yoke, which through my cranium slided, 
(Don't mind the rhyme,) and brings us where we turn aside did. 

But let us to the point. Ere he forsakes 

The country of his ancestors, and seeks 
The land of steamboats and of rattlesnakes ; 

In doleful dumps the tearful Talbot wreaks 

His thought into expression and now speaks 
A final farewell to the seat of knowledge. 

He wishes he was there ; though the last weeks 
He frankly must confess he spent at College 
From him for all its pleasures took away the whole edge. 

Tough Alexandrine that ! but I am ill able 

Just now to stop my Pegasus and mend it ; 
In spite of supernumerary syllable, 

When I begin a stanza, I must end it ; 

If 'tis too bad, to Billy C send it, 

And he will have it polished in a minute ; 

I was too sleepy last night when I penned it 
To see the harsh cacophony within it, 
And hate to change my rhyme-word when I once begin it. 

" The point !" you say ; well, let us to the point, 

But with my verses don't get in a rage ; 
"With my poor muse, the "times are out of joint," 

And the same subject long she can't engage, 

But seeks variety on every page ; 
I ne'er pored much o'er nonsense mathematic, 

Which "disciplines the mind," says every sage, 
Reflect, she never had the bliss ecstatic, 
Of conning problems when my muse becomes erratic-. 

i860.] Farewell to Alma Mater. S51 

If he who ever doats on sines and angles, 

Can therefore be a practical logician, 
Then too can he, in county court who wrangles 

Purge, bleed and blister well as a physician ; 

Were I a dab at cuts and thrusts Horatian, 

I'd do 't myself ; but I can only wish an- 
other Erasmus, glory of his age, 
Would drive these mathematic Vandals off the stage. 

I know that mathematic lore's the mother 

Of many noble interesting Facts ; 
Let's learn the facts — but why our cranium bother 

With all the processes of y plus x, 

That any head but Newton's must perplex, 
By which were gotten those conclusions great ? 

A knowledge of the process who exacts 
By which were cooked the things we like to eat ? 
An illustration Mr. cannot beat. 

True, we have cooks ; so let us have philosophers, 
But cook nor chemist e'er should thrust his glasses 

And pots in every luckless face whose nose offers ; 
Faugh ! as athwart my recollection passes 
The odorous thought of Mr. M 's gases, 

My hand instinctive leaps to my proboscis, 
And ready finger on each nostril places, 

Till every avenue to smell it closes, 

So mindful of its fate of old my wounded nose is. 

" The point !" again you say ; well, to the point. 

Please say for me, dear D , if you can venture, 

In longer words than Johnson ever coined, 

And stentorophonic more than e'er was Stentor, 

FAREWELL TO ALMA MATER, (it don't enter 
Into my head to think you can refuse it,) 

Inform her dear old ladyship, I sent her 
(Put specs upon her nose, and she'll peruse it,) 
A long adieu in verse, ere to the West I mosey'd. 

Not without some few cardial qualms, I find ; 

For who to cold forgetfulness a prey, 
The country of his fathers e'er resigned, 

To distant realms pursued his weary way, 

(This line at least I do not steal from Gray,) 
Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind-a ? 

Therefore, when I at length my wanderings stay, 
To her my muse long elegies will whine-a, 
Full thousand miles away from poor degraded Carolina, 

Degraded Carolina ! — why degraded ? 

I have a notion here to make a speech ; 
But my poor Pegasus is now so jaded, 

He scorns the spur and kicks up at the switch \ 

Purpureum pannum therefore here I'll stitch, 
(Horace, ahem ! don't you admire my Latin ?) 

A ray of an immortal poem, which 

352 Farewell to Alma Mater. [February, 

You heard, but sure you know what room you eat in, 
And which I here insert because it comes pat in. 

Sprung from the seeds dropped on a desert coast, 

From the wide branches of the parent tree ; 
(Children in a far wilderness exposed, 

Who grew to adolescence, and then broke 

With youthful vigor the parental yoke ; — 
Star, in a constellation of the free, 

It shone as proudly as its peers — and spoke 
Promise, that in a bright maturity 
Not least among the throng in splendor it should be. 

Like Lucifer it fell not — -nor did lose 

A single beam ; yet in that cluster fair 
That lights the Occident, riot as it rose 

Shines Carolina's emblematic star ; 

Nay, younger luminaries now there are 
That since have ranged them in the glorious throng, 

Which put to shame, with a more gaudy glare, 
Their older sister — and we fear ere long 
She'll take a lower place her brighter peers among. 

To make the contrast worse — a neighbor gleams, 

Mars of the system — with a fierce red light, J 

Causing her northern namesake's milder beams, 

1" appear more dull, and languid to the sight. 

But why, oh Muse ! appeareth thus less bright 
The Carolinian star ? Why in the crown 

That gems the sable brow of iEthiop night, 
Obscurer have its coruscations grown ? 
(From regions high, where too aspiring thou hast flown, 

My Pegasus descend !) Why hath our State 

Among her sisters ta'en a lower place ? 
Because it hath been her peculiar fate 

To stick stock-still, while they pursue the race. 

Her charioteers — they grin a sad grimace, 
And with a lowly genuflexion kneel, 

And call on Hercules, with sorrowing face ; 
Deeply each seems the sad mishap to feeL 
But mark — not one doth put his shoulder to the wheel. 

The people's slaves, the rulers of the State, 

Expend their time in vain garrulity, 
Or make gigantic efforts — to abate 

A sixpence of a Judge's salary ; 

While Education and Improvement lie 
Sleeping upon the table — (oh! they scout 

Expensive projects, ) with contention high 
They prate of Sheriffs, or of bank-bills spout, 
Till Bank Bills fill their pockets, drawn the people's out. 

Soundly they sleep — no cabalistic word, 

No voice can rouse them from their lethargy, 
Nor break the opiate spell. Has none been heard ? 

I860.] Farewell to Alma Mater ; 858 

One, as a trumpet shrill, was lifted high ; 

From classic bow'rs it came — the thrilling cry, 
Improvement ! — passed the whole wide country round, 

And as its powerful accents thundered by, 
Among the western hills loud echoes found, 
And Currituck's far shore was startled at the sound, 

Th' effect ? The ignorant were sore amazed. 

And greatly wondered what he would be at ; 
Some called him Southern Clinton — many praised. 

One dubbed him clerical aristocrat ; 
(Now who it was I don't pretend to .state, 

But certainly 'twas from the tongue of Soite ;*) 

T 1 • 

It seemed a great sensation to create, 
And, it was hoped, a spirit would excite 
Such plans to execute as prompted him to write. 

And that was all — he only caused to smoke, 

The moist materials which he breathed upon ; 
No noble flame In vain he spoke, 

The matter ended just where it begun. 

To build his wall, Amphion caused to run 
The rocks ! — but not thus Carlton with his road ; 

Enchanted with his minstrelsy, each stone 
Leaped upon end, and wondering listener stood — ■ 
He ceased-^and back again it fell, a senseless clod. 

These lines irrelevant — whether you squandered 

Your precious time on, or skipped fairly o'er them, 
I care nut — but my muse enough has wandered, 

And I return to what I said before them. 

For my digressions, much do I deplore them ; 
But now no more your patience I'll abuse, 

So on your memory's tablet do not score them. 
Lachrymal globules from my peepers ooze, 
As now to each and all I tender my adieus. 

The Faculty — for 'twould be very rude 

To pass their worships by in silence chill ; 
Grateful I am for every grain of good 

I got from them— and pardon pounds of ill ; 

The learning which they labored to instil, 
Of what is useful I got quantum suff., 

'Of t'other sort, a little was a fill ; 
1 had of musty mathematic stuff, 
More than sufficient — (vide Blair) — I had enough, 

To Mr. H ■ extend my best respects ; 

I would essay my compliments to wrench 
Into his language— but my muse reflects 

She writes dog-Engli3h better than dog-French : 

Of Spanish, I am ign'rant as a bench, 
Acquaintance with it I shall ne'er renew an ; 

Against its gutteral my teeth I clench, 
E'er since I tried to cough " Don Jorge Juan," 
Which effort nearly proved my vocal organ's ruin. 

* Qu. Speight ? 

£54 Farewell to Alma Mater. [February, 

•Perhaps, dear D , my style don't suit leave-taking, 

' But yet,' though unmmstose my words may be, 

As tuneful misses squall, " my heart is breaking;" 
Where'er I roam, whatever realms T see, 
(Goldsmith) my heart will fondly turn to thee ; 

Write, write, dear D , and when you write direct 

To Randolph, Tipton county, Tennessee, 

For there to cease my roving I expect 

Next May, if boilers are not burst, and steamboats wreck'd. 

T ! now in fancy fast I have him 

Transfixing Science with his bloody bayonet ; 
As meat-axe looking fierce. The theme I gave him 

Wrote he on it, and what then did he say on it? 

I know he must have cast of light a ray on it ; 
That termination vile ! 'Tis truly sweet 

To think that now no more I have to play on it ; 
And now this stanza, how shall I complete, 
And give the last long line its quota due of feet ? 

Your class — to Raleigh, Turkey, Poet, Moses, 

Put pretty parson Powell, portly Pitchford, 
Whose name euphonious no rhyme discloses, 

Save cognomen of Raleigh-tailor, Litchford ; 
None perfect more I find, although I itch for 't, 

His very name has got me in a hobble, 
And well his hairy hide deserves a switch for 't ; 

But now my promontory eight I double, 

And weather into port, but not without much trouble. 

And now of all my friends the list I'd call, 

And all a-piece a stanza would present 'em, 
But I must bid them farewell — one and all ; 

I hope the general vale I have sent 'em 

Will answer just as well, as "argumentum 
Ad fiominem," for every individual. 

My rhymes are now too long ; I'll not estend 'em, 
But of an useless plague at once to rid you all. 
I lump you, great and small, and long good-bye I bid you alL 

Farewell ! A word that must be, and hath been ; 

A sound which makes us linger — yet — Farewell ! 
Ye who these harum-scarum lines have seen, 

(They're Talbot's last,] if on your spirits dwell 

A lingering tought of him — if on ye swell 
A single recollection — he attains 

The summit of his wishes. Oh ! to tell 
You all good bye, him to the core it pains ! 
But it must be— so all good-bye ! qoth 


I860.] The German Language. 355 


From the beginning of post-diluvian history till now, language and 
arms have shared the dominion of the world. Scarcely had the mass of 
mankind settled down after the confusion at Babel, than their petty com- 
munities began to prey upon each other, for the acquisition of territory 
and riches; and in a short time kingdoms began to extend their bounda- 
ries far and wide ; and wealth, luxury, and ease begat in their possessors 
a desire for the cultivation of mind. It would be an exceedingly inter- 
esting study to follow the history of language, written and spoken, from 
the first rude picture-writing, and the scarcely less skillful onomatopeia, 
unintelligible except by the gestures of the narrator, to the formation of 
letters representing the sounds of the human voice, and the rapid growth 
of national vocabularies. But passing over the period in which this im- 
portant change was effected, as well as the many hypotheses to account 
for the origin of language, let us transport ourselves farther down the 
pathway of centuries, till history assumes the place of fable, and uncer- 
tainty merges into truth. The success in conquest and colonization that 
had early attended the efforts of the Greeks, and the consequent increase 
in luxury and leisure, afforded them ample opportunities to add to their 
warlike reputation the nobler fame of excelling in the arts of peace ; they 
resolved to push their conquests into the dominion of mind, and earn 
there laurels that would be at once a blessing and a boast to all posterity. 
It would be useless to tell of their achievements ; how, under the masterly 
management of Grecian writers, the rude dialects were moulded into a 
graceful language, as a mass of marble is transformed into a beautiful 
statue under the skilful hands of the artist; and how, when Grecian 
prowess could offer no obstacle to the superior fortune and amis of Borne, 
her divine philosophy and wealth of letters made her yet the mistress of 
mind, as she had once been supreme in arms. 

The same phenomena may be observed in the history of Borne. A few 
centuries of warlike activity resulted in the possession of a boundless em- 
pire ; then the usual concomitants of greatness began to appear, and scarce- 
ly had the voice of Cato, the Censor, recommending the expulsion of the 
Greek philosophers from Borne, ceased to echo along the forum, than 
wealthy senators began to patronize learning and art, and the lore of 
Greece was transferred to the capital of its conquerors. And when sub- 

I sequent degeneracy had opened her gates to the Barbarians, and Borne 
could no longer dictate laws, she gave them as a priceless inheritance to 

356 The German Language, [February, 

This religion and culture fell upon unfruitful ground, which had to be 
irrigated and enriched by the blood of many battle fields, before it was 
ready to yield a plentiful harvest. The seeds were scattered throughout 
the whole of Europe ; but it was reserved for Germany, which had earliest 
come in contact with Roman arms and arts, to bear fruit the soonest, and 
to initiate the measures that were to reform the world. The art of print- 
ing, invented by Guttenberg, of Mentz, about 1434, was shortly followed 
by the discovery of the true planetary system, by Copernicus ; while at 
the same time Luther was thundering against the strongholds of Popery ; 
and a few years subsequently, Kepler discovered the laws of the planetary 
movemeuts. It is trae that in England, previously to the time of the 
Reformation, "Wycklifie had fearlessly combatted the doctrine of popish 
supremacy, insomuch that he has been called " the Morning Star of the 
Reformation;" but he only served to announce the present coming of 
Luther's sun in all its mid-day splendor ; and Schwartz, of Cologne, con- 
tests with Roger Bacon the invention of gun-powder. 

This much had the G-erman mind, peculiarly adapted to close applica- 
tion, delicate experiments, and careful inductions, worked out for the 
benefit of humanity 5 hitherto their investigations had been confined to 
the more immediately practical departments of human science, but now, 
while in England, Lord Bacon was propagating doctrines destined to rev- 
olutionize philosophy, and Shakspeare was laying the foundations of his 
immortality, Grotius, on the continent, pushed his inquiries into the 
theory of International Law, and composed a treatise, which was to be the 
reference-book of all coming times. And while the strains of Milton were 
yet echoing along the English shore, and the Cartesian philosophy was 
paramount in the dominion of mind, Leibnitz, the contemporaiy and com- 
peer of Locke and Newton, arose in Germany, and built up a system of 
philosophy, which yet shares with Kant the possession of German belief. 

Thus far have we observed the two important, yet distinct, eras in 
scientific history pf Germany. The alchemysts had long set before the 
world the example of experimenting, and the thinkers of Germany, turning 
their investigations to sober pursuts, were enabled to invent printing and 
gun-powder. Luther devoted his attention to religion, and introduced 
the grand experiment of the Reformation. By this time study had pre- 
pared the mind for deeper researches and more subtle inductions ; and 
tberefore came the doctrines of Copernicus, succeeded by Kepler, and 
then by the more refined reasoning of Grotius, and the delicate arguments 
of Leibnitz. 

To enumerate all the benefits that have accrued, and shall yet accrue, to 
tbe world by virtue these labors would be impossible. But a few centu- 
ries have elspsed since they began to be useful ; and yet the great mass of 

1SG0.] Tfte German Language. 857 

mankind have advanced farther in science and all the arts of living, than 
they did in the thousands of preceding years. The inventions and theo- 
ries promulgated hy these master minds were calculated to benefit, not a 
single State, but the whole family of nations ; they were not to be confin- 
ed to a single great nation, which would be glory enough for most men, 
but they were to increase the circle of their influence for the regeneration 
of the world. Many persons seem to me to have mistaken the cause for 
the effect, when they attribute the invention of printing to the sudden 
revival of intelligence throughout Europe; and build up grand theories 
about the elasticity of the human mind, to account for the marvellous 
changes then effected. But it seems evident to me that the invention of 
printing was the prime cause of the revival of intelligence. For many 
years the human mind had slumbered in ignorance; the wealthiest libraries 
could afford to buy but comparatively few manuscripts ; and the Romish 
priests made use of their learning only to cherish the ignorance and su- 
perstition of the laity, as is well illustrated by the doctrine of many of 
the successors to the Chair of St. Peter, that " ignorance is the mother of 
devotion." Whatever good influences the Crusades may have exerted by 
introducing Europeans to the civilization of the Eastern nations, it is 
historically true that no sensible improvement was made till the art of 
printing was promulgated, and men had an opportunity of comparing the 
thoughts of their fellows with their own, and freedom was given for the 
development of mind. • If this theory be true, then the world is indebted 
to Germany for its civilization, and the experimenters of the fifteenth 
century are entitled to the lasting gratitude of mankind. 

It would be a task of but little difficulty to write many pages of the ef- 
fects in the other departments in which Germany took the lead ; of the great- 
ly increased accuracy of astronomical knowledge, resulting from the in- 
vestigations of Copernicus and Kepler, who had the satisfaction of not only 
freeing Science of a theory radically false, but of also discovering the true 
one. Of the Reformation I cannot speak — it embraces many books with- 
in itself; and of scarcely less importance were the labors of Grotius, 
in establishing and defining the principles, taught by the Bible, which 
should govern nations in their intercourse. Mental Philosophy and Math- 
ematics, hand in hand, rose to almost their present perfection under the 
fostering care of Leibnitz, for whom it is sufficient to say that he was in 
advance of Newton even in discovering the Infinitessimal Calculus; and 
that Sir William Hamilton, the King of Mental Philosophers, has adopted 
manj* of his ideas. 

We have now come to the third, and last, period in the scientific, or 
rather, artistic, history of Germany, when poetry and the plastic arts were 
so successfully cultilatcd. But in order to understand the subject thor- 

358 The German Language. [February, 

oughly, it will be necessary to notice the course of national affairs for a 
century or two anterior. From the time when Charles V. was elected 
Emperor of Germany, the nation had been in almost continual warfare. 
The five successive wars waged by Charles against his rival Francis I., of 
France, had scarcely ceased to devastate the country, and distract the 
national mind, when the quarrels between the Protestants and Papists 
opened a new field for bloodshed. Early in the next century, the Evan- 
gelical Union, headed successively by Frederic, Elector Palatine, Gustavus 
Adolphus, of Sweden, and Conde and Turenne, carried on the Thirty 
Years War against the Catholic League, commanded by Maximilian and 
Tilly, and afterwards by Tilly and Wallenstein. Peace had not been 
long declared between the belligerents, when a new quarrel in behalf of 
the Dutch gave rise to a new war with France, which was terminated by 
the peace of Nimeguen. The League of Augsburg occasioned a second 
war which ended in the peace of Ryswick in 1697. 

But Leopold was doomed to yet a third encounter with France upon 
the tented field. The rival claims of Phillip V., grandson of Louis XIV., 
of France, and the heir by testament of Charles II. to the throne of Spain; 
and of Archduke Charles, son of Leopold — gave rise to the war of the 
Spanish Succession, in which Marlborough, and Prince Eugene gained 
their immortal laurels ; and which, Marlborough being withdrawn from 
the command, in consequence of factions at home, resulted in the discom- 
fiture of the allies, and the triumph of Louis XIV., by the Peace of 
Utrecht, which secured the succession to the Bourbons. Thus, for nearly 
two centuries the Germans had been associated with the French, either 
in the capacity of enemies, or of allies ; and the consequence was that the 
French influence greatly predominated throughout Germany. The French 
language had become fashionable and French writers popular. Poems 
and novels were written, theatres conducted, and in fact, all the arts of 
life managed a la France. So far was this carried, so far did the Ger- 
mans lose their nationality, and become the mental bond-slaves of France, 
that Pere Bourhours, above a century ago, asked : Si un Allemand pent 
avoir de T esprit ? Meaning, doubtless, that they had lost the spirit of 
enterprise, and the desire for the leadership in every useful art that had 
so distingusshed their fathers. But, now French Literature began to 
be really worthy of study. While Louis XIV and his gdperals were 
everywhere extending the military rule of France, another body of men 
were engaged in works that were to endure when the oft-contested boun- 
daries of the kingdom should be changed, and were to immortalize the 
age and the name of Louis, when his military glory would be forgotten. 
Corneillc led the van, followed in quick succession by La Fontaine, 
Moliere, Bossuet, llacine, Fenelon, Boileau, Ptollin, and several other 

I860.] Thr German Language. 859 

famous writers, who added not a little to the dominion and popularity of 
the French language. 

Under such instructors German literature did not languish; nor did 
there result, as might probably have been expected, a long continued im- 
itation of the French. Fired with the thought of making for Germany 
a Literature of her own, Lessing began the struggle, in company with 
Mendelsshon and Nicolai. In the space of a few years, other writers 
came to their assistance. Men of giant minds were born ; and their exer- 
tions have thrown a yet additional lustre around the German name. 
Charles, Duke of Saxe- Weimar, at the suggestion of his mother, con- 
ceived the idea of making his little capital the literary metropolis of 
Germany — I had almost said, of the world. Wieland was there already ; 
Goethe was soon called, and after him came Herder and Schiller. The 
German stage, which had thus far been a bad imitation of the French, 
was established on a footing of its own. Lessing's " Laocoon" had done 
much towards the formation of a correct taste, not in poetry only, but in 
painting and sculpture. The genius of Goethe and Schiller reformed the 
taste of the nation, and carried poetry to an unprecedented excellence — 
so much so, that Goethe's name has been placed by admiring critics in 
that niche of fame, formerly appropriated to Homer and Shakspeare, as 
the only three men to whom the word, Genius has ever been applicable. 

Lessing may be looked upon as the Reformer of the German litera- 
ture, in the same sense that Wickliffe was a reformer of morals , but it 
was reserved for Goethe to perfect the revolution in letters, as for Luther 
in morals. Goethe's works have exercised a controlling influence over the 
literary taste of Germany, as it is yet destined to affect the world; and 
to give to the language he wrote in that ascendancy which France 
has lost, mainly through his instrumentality. The German language must 
become in a great measure classical; simply because it was the language 
of Goethe and Schiller. The English language, hallowed by the writ- 
ings of Shakspeare and Milton, and spreading over a vast continent, can 
never be wholly forgotten ; but a languor has overspread the minds of its 
writers — and England prides herself upon the remembrance of her for- 
mer glory ; America is satisfied with claiming a distant descent from 
Shakspeare'^puntrymen ; while Germany is yet pushing her researches 
into every crapirtment of Science, and winning for herself a classic renown. 
The best scholars in the world are natives of Germany; and it is sufficient 
to name Humboldt and Liebig, to make good her claim to a pre-eminence 
in the pursuits of Physical Science. The English, until late years, were 
too proud to acknowledge that greatness could exist anywhere, save in 
England ; and their descendants in America, cherishing the same spirit, 
are well, though not very classically characterized by Mr. Halliburton, in 

3C0 The German Language* [February, 

his " Clock-maker," who puts into the mouth of a Yankee the words : 
" The British are the greatest nation on airth, and we can whip the Bri- 
tish." Perhaps no Englishman has done more towards opening the eyes 
of his countrymen to the true merits of Germany, than Mr. Carlyle; 
whose admirable criticisms on the German writers are well worth the 
study of any man. Now, however, the claims of Germany to superiority 
are beginning to be admitted on all sides ; men are opening their eyes, 
and wondering why they did not perceive it before ; and I venture to 
predict that the time is soon coming when a thorough acquaintance with 
its literature, will be indispensably requisite to a finished education. 

The spoken language of Germany, although it possesses not the richly 
flowing sounds characteristic of the Southern dialects of Europe, is yet 
far from being destitute of beauties. Unlike the French, each syllable 
is prononnced ; and a few simple rules once thoroughly learnt, make us 
masters of the pronunciation. Nor are the words themselves destitute of 
expressiveness. Uncouth as they appear to the eye, with their oft-recur- 
ing consonants, they issue from the lips of a native with the richness and 
force that almost emulate the Greek. And like the Greek, too, the Ger- 
man language is eminently fitted for compounding words, expressing all 
the meaning, and doubling the force of a lengthy circumlocution. 

This is not the place to give a detailed account of the grammar of the 
language, and I shall finish this article as soon as possible ; satisfied if the 
subject attract the attention of others more able to discuss it at large. 
There can surely be no necessity io invite attention to a literature so fa- 
mous as the German. The mere enumeration of German writers who 
have obtained a wide celebrity, and have enriched the world-literature 
with many precious thoughts, would startle the thoughtless. And it be- 
comes the duty of educated men at least not to permit so much wisdom, 
and feeling, and truth, to moulder unnoticed upon long-neglected shelves j 
for wisdom, and feeling, and truth, belong to no single nation, but to the 
world — to humanity ; and they who do not improve the opportunity for 
learning, are guilty of a waste the most criminal before the eye of Heaven, 

I860.] A Lesson from the Poet. 361 



" Malo me Galatea petit." — Virgil. 
" Galatea seeks me for harm." — Lee. 

The truth of the proposition that times change and men change with 
them I shall not have the hardihood to call in question. But this I 
know, that, however times change and men change, women change not. 
We learn from the poet that eighteen hundred years ago the fair nymphs 
who bloomed like water-lilies along the banks of the woody Mincius, not 
content with the humble style of " the sought," aspired to the more lofty 
title of the "seeker." A slight observation has convinced me that the 
ambitious spirit of these early maids still lives among their sisters of more 
modern date. But should they be blamed for it ? It were surely a hard 
thing for an apple to ripen and blush unseen, and at last fall to the ground 
untasted. How much harder for a luscious lassie to dry up on the stem, 
unplucked — pining in virgin loneliness, ever waiting, ever looking and 
longing in vain ! Few know the bitter heart-history of the spinster — how 
the memory of rejected offers will steal in upon her moments of merriment 
like a spectre at a feast ; how fearfully she greets that unwelcome intruder, 
the first gray hair ; how day after day with anxious hope she asks her 
minor if that really is a wrinkle, and when in spite of her struggles the 
truth will come, how she convulsively clasps her hands over her aching 
heart and submits in silent sorrow to her inevitable fate. When thus 
disappointed, her charms thus slighted, does she wrap herself up in a 
mantle of indifference and selfishly attend to her own business ? No, God 
bless her ! With a soul as comprehensive as the affairs of her neighbors, 
and a tongue ever active in the cause of others she lives a model of gen- 
erosity and disinterested benevolence. Does Mr. Smith disagree with 
Mrs. Smith? She smelleth it afar off. With a scent for family differ- 
ences as keen as a fortune-hunter's for an heiress, she hasteth to the scene 
of strife. You surely would not expect her after learning the particulars 
to gloat over them in secret like a miser over his money-bags. No, her 
treasures a^pfree to all. She generously sharer; the news with all the 
neighborhood — mingles with it from heart overflowing with kindness, 
some drops of compassion for one of the parties, "Poor Mr. Smith ! 
Well, I knew how it would turn out when he married that hateful thing. 
I always said so." And as she rises to take her leave, "'Now, Mrs. Jones, 
you musn't say a word about this. It was told me as a profound secret." 
Off she goes onjher mission of mercy, strewing thornless roses along her path- 


362 A Lesson from the Poet. [February, 

way, followed by the blessings of the unfortunate and the prayers of the 
pious. And, when her day's work is finished, she seeks her couch with 
a "still and quiet conscience," and soon a peaceful smile playing oyer 
those angular features, she sinks into a slumber as calm and sweet as an 
infant's dream of Heaven. thou Dorcas of women ! Thou who goest 
about doing good ! Though others slight and ungratefully revile thee, 
this poor pen shall ever be raised in thy defence and the breast of Law- 
rence Lee ever throb with sympathy for thy woes. 

Though she thus unselfishly labors for the diffusion of knowledge, and 
performs without reward the work of a newspaper, her friends are few, 
and her enemies many and cruel. At every banquet she is the skeleton, 
and people seem to consider her only a scarecrow exhibited by the Creator 
to frighten young folks from the perilous paths of celibacy. At her ap- 
pearance, young girls are awed into blank propriety, conversation sud- 
denly lags, and the weather becomes a most interesting topic. But when 
her lank form is out of sight, and she goes to bestow the blessings of her 
presence elsewhere, a pressure is removed from the hearts and tongues of 
all. Every maiden, like a beautiful serpent, spouts forth her venom till 
the reputation of poor Miss Spinster is deplorably tarnished. 

What wonder, then, if scared by the cruel fate of the old maid, young 
ladies are disposed to rush somewhat tumultuously into the ranks of ma- 
trimony ? What wonder, if, on seeing a nice young man, a dozen of 
them do cry out " I'm going — going. Who bids ? Who bids for me V 
What wonder if pale cheeks are daubed with paint and crooked, fish-hook 
forms, baited with the gew-gaws of fashion, in the fond hope of enticing 
some gudgeen ! It is quite natural. Indeed so generally have people 
acknowledged the propriety of this course, that they have set aside one 
year in four for the exhibition of these innocent and amusing practices. 
During leap-year young men are considered lawful prey, and young ladies 
may quite becomingly imitate the example of an early favorite of their 
sex, and " go about like a roaring lion seeking whom they may devour." 
And I venture to assert that before the end of this year, the chamber of 
every village belle will be found decked with the trophies of a hundred 
victories — bunches of bleeding hearts, adorning the walls like strings of 
red pepper hanging about the door of a country cabin. Of this, though 
one of the sufferers, I shall not complain. Let them caseJfceir game. 
But the misfortune is, that not only do they seek the hearts of unsus- 
pected swains, but, as Damsetas says, " they seek them for harm." Ma- 
ny another simpleton might well take up the same lamentation. He who 
lay sweetly dreaming of an earthly Paradise, and listening to strains of 
heavenly music, as the hand of some angel swept over his heart-strings 
is roused by another sort of a song, and a far different tune, as the same 

I860.] A Lesson from the Poet. 363 

fairy fingers dance lightly about Lis purse-strings, and give forth a rich 
metalic-sounding melody. He fancied, perhaps, that, like a real poetic 
maiden, she could " live on the light of one sweet smile from him." But 
alas ! he soon finds out that she has the most prosaic sort of an appetite 
for pork and greens, beef-steak and biscuit, and other vulgar things. 
Did he think that she was clothed with innocence and beauty ! By the 
light of an account at the dry-goods store, he discovers the inutility of 
these unsubstantial fabrics. But when, to add insult to injury, a little 
cherub appears upon the scene, when the poor man makes the astounding 
discovery that baby-shoes actually do not actually grow on trees, when 
his sleep is haunted with dreams of a dirty face, catnip tea, Hive Syrup, 
wailings and cutting of teeth, he can but groan from the depths of his 
troubled soul "malo malo me Galatea petit." Look at this picture, ye 
butterflies ! Ye, whose crinoline outspans the reach of your minds ! 
Look at this picture and tell me : Did she not seek him for harm ? 

With some of our modern specimens before him, in more than one 
sense, might Byron have uttered his passionate exclamation: 

" Alas the love of woman! it is known 
To be a lovely and a fearful thing." 

So fearful indeed that prudent parents always caution their sons against 
it, considering it as a thing like fire-arms, to be handled by those only 
who have reached years of discretion. But of what avail is this good 
advice ? Adam meddled with this " fearful thing" when he was very 
young, and his descendants seem to have their hearts fully set in them to 
pursue the same course ; and often, I fear, with the same result. 

If, then, this is the case, it is evident that any hope of lasting reforma- 
tion in the morals of our youth must be founded on an improvement in 
the maidens of the land. Talk of Temperance Societies and Christian 
Associations for the benefit of young men ! Strike at the root of the 
matter. Reform young ladies. Store their minds with knowledge and 
make them entertaining companions for men of sense, and gambling 
houses and drinking saloons will soon be numbered among the barbarous 
relics of a past age. For wonld a young man frequent such places, if he 
could enjoy the society of a virtuous and intelligent lady — that "nigro 
simillima cycno ?" If so, then the sooner he drinks himself to death, 
the better foffhimself and the rest of the world. Oh that some benefac- 
tor of his race would introduce an improved breed of women ! In this 
age of advancement, when everybody is getting patents for improvements 
in stoves and machinery, from pop-guns and coffee-pots, to cotton-gins 
and Sharpe's rifles, — when one hears on all sides of improved breeds of 
cattle and hogs, why should women alone remain unchanged — ornaments 
in the parlor, scarecrows in the family sitting-room — lovely forms made 

364 Nuts for the Mathematicians. [February, 

up of cotton, tight-lacing and crinoline — idle angels, whose whole history 
might be written in " They were born, they ate, they dressed, and they 
died" — saintly beings who pore over the last novel, and lift their little 
hands in pious horror at the enormities of young men, their dissipation, 
their waste of time, their aimless existence. Blessed ! yea, thrice blessed, 
would he be who could effect a reformation here ; efface from the charac- 
ter of woman the stain left upon it by the early intimacy of their great 
ancestress with the Evil One, make her what she ought to be — what her 
outward loveliness betokens her to be — what poets have feigned her — the 
centre of sweet and holy influences, the meek sharer of prosperity, the 
gentle soother of misfortune, a star of hope to the downcast and sorrow- 
ing. Louder acclamations would greet such a benefactor than ever 
thrilled upon the ear of a conqueror ; and when Death came, his parting 
spirit lingering to survey its work, might catch up the triumphant strain 
of the Roman bard — 

" Exegi monumentum